


I'm Gonna Love You Through It

by Taybay14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, BDSM, Bloodplay, Bondage, Depression, Dom Dean, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Graphic Description, Murder, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 41,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is the FBI's most notorious serial killer. When he rolls into a college town he has one thing on his mind- finding a new victim. When he comes across Castiel Novak he decides he's the perfect target. Little does he know, Castiel struggles with depression and anxiety, and is the only person who will actually be thankful for Dean killing him. Dean decides to take Castiel with him as he travels the country. Slowly, their relationship grows into something more. But will their love be enough to overcome the darkness that surrounds them?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know why you’re here Castiel?” Dean asks, his silver knife catching the light. Castiel stared at it for a moment, his eyes wide. It’s one of Dean’s favorite questions to ask. It’s interesting what people say, what they admit to. Skeletons always come out of the closet with that question.<br/>“You’re going to kill me.” Before Dean can say anything Castiel looks up at him, blue eyes locking with green. “That’s okay.”<br/>“It’s what?” Dean asks incredulously. That’s the first time he’s gotten this reaction. They’re usually begging by now, if not screaming.<br/>“Just do it quickly please.” Castiel closes his eyes, one single tear rolling down his cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean wipes the blade on his jeans, breathing heavy. The man tied to the chair squirms against the rope, whimpering in pain. Blood covers almost every inch of his skin. Dean smiles, putting the knife to the man’s skin again. “You’re pretty when you cry.” Dean whispers, the knife dragging along the path of the tears. The man shudders and Dean smiles again.

“Does that hurt?” The man closes his eyes, more tears spilling over. He takes the knife and digs in into the man’s gut. His scream is muffled by the rag stuffed in his mouth. Dean’s laugh overpowers it easily. The man’s whole body is shaking and vomit soaks the rag. “I would let you go, but you see- I’m Dean Winchester, the FBI’s most wanted serial killer. Emphasis on killer. So that’s not really going to happen.”

He wiggles the knife, making the hole in his gut larger. The man screams again and Dean gives him a large smile. “I have to admit. You’re a tough little guy. Usually people pass out by now.” As if on cue, the man’s eyelids flutter shut and his head slumps against his shoulder. Dean sighs, the fun now over. He pulls the guys hair, exposing his neck. He slaps him across the face. “Wake up!” He yells.

The guy jumps, his eyes wide open. Dean smiles. “I’m going to slit your throat now.” The guy screams, shaking his head no. Dean laughs, tightening his grip on the man’s hair. He slices quickly, ending the pathetic life before him. He stands there, letting the blood spray his face and shirt. His red smile is bright as he stares down at his latest victim. After a few seconds of heavy breathing he steps away, wiping the knife once again on his jeans. He walks over to the bedside table, leaving bloody shoe prints on the dingy carpet of the hotel. He picks up his thick leather journal and a pen.

_Victim #97: I only used a knife this time, avoiding vital organs and arteries. Lasted nine hours and thirteen minutes before passing out; a new personal best for me : time of death, 10:38 pm._

 

 

 

Castiel hates going to therapy every Friday morning. He hates it with every fiber of his being, but the only way his parents will pay for college is if he goes to therapy and swallows the pointless blue pills the doctors prescribed. So here he is on a Friday morning, walking across the freezing cold campus to the office across the river. It’s usually only a fifteen minute walk, but Castiel is dragging more than usual this morning due to the long night of lying awake staring at the blank ceiling.

Castiel feels like college is just as much of a waste of time as therapy, but at least when he’s at college his parents aren’t hovering constantly. Not that he can breathe any better, because honestly his depression and anxiety suffocates him no matter where he is. When he arrives at the brick building of his doctor’s office he sighs heavily. He pulls his jacket tighter around himself as he walks through the door. The receptionist smiles warmly at him, making his skin crawl. He nods in acknowledgment and sits in his favorite chair in the corner.

There’s two other people sitting in the waiting room. One is a teenage girl with braces and slouched shoulders. The seconds is an older man in a snazzy business suit, checking his watch every thirty seconds. Castiel wonders what they’re here for. Five different psychiatrists work in the office building, Castiel has already seen three of them. The first one specializes in juvenile psychiatry, but pushed Castiel off when he realized his issues were far from juvenile. The second one specialized in anxiety and depression, but wasn’t prepared for Castiel’s self-harm issues- which is why Castiel now sees doctor number three, who is apparently an expert in all sorts of things.

“Castiel Novak.” The receptionist calls cheerfully. Castiel inwardly groans. Like it isn’t bad enough he has to deal with bright lights and boring waiting room music, but now he has to deal with little miss sunshine. He stands up slowly, making his way to the door. The receptionist tells him what room to go to, like he hasn’t been here a dozen times to see Dr. Lucas. The door is slightly ajar so he pushes through quickly, the dulled lighting making him instantly relax.

“Castiel.” The man says quietly, offering him a small smile. Castiel has to admit that out of the many shrinks he has been forced to see throughout the years, Dr. Lucas is pretty okay. He dims the lights for Castiel, lets him stand if his anxiety doesn’t want him to sit, and has yet to ask him the dreaded question, ‘how do you feel about that?’

Castiel is actually having a somewhat okay day, so he chooses to sit in the comfortable seat across the desk from Dr. Lucas. “How are you doing today, Castiel?” He already knows, with the fact that Castiel sat in the chair instead of instantly pacing or shrinking into the corner.

“I am well.” Castiel says quietly, fiddling with his hands.

“How was your week?” The doctor has a notebook and pen in front of him, the sheet blank. Castiel hasn’t screwed up, not yet.

“I had an economics test on Tuesday.” He mumbles, picking at the thread of his sweater. Lucas doesn’t say anything, waiting for Castiel to continue. “I think I passed. I studied for three nights straight so I should have passed.”

“Did it feel like you were doing well while taking the test?” He asks Castiel softly. Castiel thinks about it for a moment. The anxiety he felt while taking it was pretty much his normal anxiety. The questions would blur together every once in a while, but that was also normal when he feels overwhelmed.

“It felt alright, I think.”

“You seem tired this morning, Castiel. You have bags under your eyes.”

“Was there a question in there?” Castiel asks defensively. Every once in a while he gets enough energy to fight back. Every once in a while he actually has the energy to give a shit. This was one of those moments, but he’s sure it will pass quickly. His will to live doesn’t tend to last long.

“Did you sleep last night Castiel?”

“Not really. No.” First mistake. The notebook is picked up and he puts the pen to the paper, scratching away.

“What was going through your mind?”

“Nothing in particular.” Castiel shrugs.

“Have you been having your nightmares again?” The doctor asks cautiously, his pen ready to write down what Castiel says. Castiel shrugs gently, then nods. The doctor marks something down quickly, then looks at Castiel as if he’s waiting for him to say something more. When he realizes that he isn’t going to say anything, he prompts Castiel. “Are they the same as before? The attack replaying?”

Castiel clears his throat, slouching lower in his chair. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” The doctor says. His eyebrows furrow. “What about the other times.”

“Every once in a while it’ll be the same situation, but different. It’ll happen at a different place or with a different person.” Castiel shrugs. “It’s only happened once or twice though. Usually it’s the same dream as normal.”

“Is that why you didn’t sleep last night? Are you avoiding the chance of having a nightmare?”

“I guess.” Castiel shrugs. Once again, he writes something down.

“How has your depression been? Has the medication been helping?” Anxiety infiltrates Castiel’s veins. His hands are instantly sweaty and his fingers shake. He stands up, moving to the other side of the room. He crosses his arms and takes a deep breath.

“Yes.” The doctor sighs, shifting in his seat.

“Would you like to know how I know that you’re lying to me?” Castiel huffs and moves again, this time to stand directly behind the chair.

“Because I’m standing up.”

“Because you’re standing up.” The doctor smiles softly. “Because you’re not sleeping.”

“The medication isn’t doing anything to help. I might as well be taking sugar pills.”

“I could switch the brand. Or possibly raise the dose.” Castiel shakes his head quickly, pulling at his sweater again.

“I’m sick of medication.”

“I know Castiel, but it’s part of the deal- remember?”

“I remember.” Castiel slumps in his seat.

“Let me know before you stop taking it.”

“I won’t stop taking it doc.”

“Every person who struggles with depression stops taking their medication at some point. It’s frustrating when it doesn’t help and they give up. I just need you to tell me before that happens.”

“Why does it matter? So you can tell my parents?”

“No. When people with depression are on medication and then quit it without being weaned off, the depression gets dramatically worse. The shock to the system can cause many patients to commit suicide.”

“I won’t stop out of the blue.” Castiel slouches lower in the seat, pulling at his sweater. The strings are starting to unravel but he doesn’t really care. “Not that it matters anyway.” He whispers.

“Why is that?”

“I’m going to kill myself soon anyway. This isn’t working.”

“Castiel.” The ding of the fifty minute bell goes off, causing both of the men to jump. Castiel stands up and shrugs.

“Well, session’s over doc.”

“I don’t have an appointment after you so you could stay a few extra minutes.”

“No thanks.” Castiel pulls his jacket tightly around him and goes to the door. “See ya Friday.” He walks out of the office, past the happy receptionist and back into the freezing cold air. He takes a deep breath and sighs, starting his walk to his morning class. Students rush by him as he walks down the sidewalk and he can’t stand the idea of so many people being so close. He fights the urge to skip class and crawl into bed, but his morning lecture takes attendance and passing grades are another requirement in the college deal. He thinks, not for the first time, that he should just skip anyway. If all goes well, he’ll be dead in a week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Don't forget I take prompts for ficlets as well) Enjoy (:

Saturday morning Dean gets in his impala and drives to a University a few hours away. It’s a large campus, with over 50,000 students. The perfect place for his hunting grounds. He arrives to the college around dinner time. He stops in to a local café and slides into a corner booth. He was slightly sloppy with dumping the last body, too anxious to get on with the next case, and he knows he should lay low for a few days. The waiter that comes up to his table is a shy, blue eyed boy with messy black hair. He doesn’t make eye contact and his voice is quiet when he asks Dean what he would like to eat.

  
“A slice of pie and a root beer float please, Castiel.” He says softly, reading the boy’s nametag. He offers him a warm smile but Castiel seems to pull back. Dean isn’t really used to that sort of reaction to his smiles, unless it’s a victim he’s smiling at.

  
“Are you a student here?” Dean tries, getting Castiel to at least look at him with the question. Castiel fidgets slightly with his notepad. Dean finds it endearing. He thinks of how Castiel would look, his pale skin rubbed raw from rope.

  
“I’m a sophomore.” Castiel hates the way this man is looking at him. He hates his bright green eyes that sparkle, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  
“I’m actually thinking about attending next year. Would you recommend it?” It’s bullshit obviously. Education has never been his thing- that’s Sammy’s role. Thinking about Sammy puts a dull ache in Dean’s chest. He misses his brother so damn much, but he can’t call him. He has way too many law enforcement officers out looking for him, he can’t risk pulling Sam into this mess.

  
“It’s cold.” Castiel shrugs. “There’s a few good coffee carts though.” Castiel knows he probably sounds really stupid, but the guy is setting him on edge. For someone with anxiety he probably shouldn’t be working a job that involves so much social interaction. His parents don’t know he has a job though, meaning all of the income goes directly to himself. Worth the pain.

  
“It’s a pretty big school. Is it dangerous?” Castiel gulps. Does he know? He backs away slowly.

  
“I’ll get you your pie.” Dean shifts in his seat, watching him carefully. Castiel is back in a few minutes, pie and float in hand.

  
“Thanks Sweetheart.” Dean drawls, watching the way Castiel bites his bottom lip when he says it. He would love to see those lips trembling, begging for mercy.

  
“No problem.” Castiel mutters softly. Dean watches as he walks away, loving the way his hips sway. He wants more than anything to tie him up. To slowly take him apart piece by piece. He wonders if he would be a screamer, or a strong silent type. He knows for sure he would cry. They all cry.

  
He begins planning the night out in his head. He sees a bar across the street with a lot of windows, a perfect place to sit and watch for Castiel to get off his shift. He can’t help but smile. Two murders in 24 hours- fuck yes.

 

 

 

 

Castiel is walking home after his shift, his thick coat wrapped tightly around his body. His apartment is five minutes off campus, in a building just quiet enough to be able to spend a full day in a depressive state without being disturbed.

  
His thoughts are focused on the new Walking Dead episode he needs to watch, wondering if this will be the episode the group finally finds safety. Out of nowhere a rag covers his mouth, an arm wrapping around his waist. Panic wells up in his chest as the arms lift him up. He screams into the rag, already feeling light headed and sleepy. ‘Not again.’ He thinks before passing out. He always hoped rape was like lightning, never striking the same place twice.

  
When Castiel wakes up he’s strapped down to a chair in nothing but his boxers, his whole body shaking. He looks around, realizing he’s in what appears to be a hotel bathroom. The lighting is extremely bright, giving him a headache. There’s a dark figure leaning against the door frame. His eyes are blurred for a few more seconds but when they focus he recognizes the man. The same bright green eyes from the café stare at him curiously.

  
“Don’t scream.” He says in a low, threatening voice. Castiel lets out a shuddering breath.

  
“Okay.” He whispers, hanging his head. He fought the last time. He kicked and screamed and clawed. The guys face was scratched by the end of the attack. Castiel had been proud of that, but looking back on it he knows it probably would have went much faster if he would have just relaxed. If he was quiet and complacent, it wouldn’t have taken so long. This time he’ll be better. This time, maybe, it won’t be so bad.

  
“Do you know why you’re here Castiel?” Dean asks, his silver knife catching the light. Castiel stared at it for a moment, his eyes wide. It’s one of Dean’s favorite questions to ask. It’s interesting what people say, what they admit to. Skeletons always come out of the closet with that question.

  
“You’re going to kill me.” Before Dean can say anything Castiel looks up at him, blue eyes locking with green. “That’s okay.”

  
“It’s what?” Dean asks incredulously. That’s the first time he’s gotten this reaction. They’re usually begging by now, if not screaming.

  
“Just do it quickly please.” Castiel closes his eyes, one single tear rolling down his cheek. “I’ve wanted to be dead for over a year. I couldn’t do that to my family, I couldn’t make them go through that, knowing I was what caused their pain. But with this, now, this is perfect.” Hope flutters in Castiel’s chest. Dean takes a step back. This isn’t fun, not at all. He needs a fight, he needs him to admit his inner demons. He needs screaming and shaking and crying.

  
“Are you serious right now?” Dean asks.

“Just do it!” Castiel screams. The energy is back. The fight is back. He’s full of adrenaline. He’s ready. He’s never been so ready for anything in his life. “Do it!”

“No!” Dean yells, stepping forward. The knife is still in his hand but his grip is very loose on it. He squats down. Castiel is crying now. Little sobs are escaping him. “I’m so confused.”  
Castiel starts crying harder, his whole body shaking furiously.

“Please. Just kill me. Please.” Dean’s whole body flutters for a second. Not a bone in his body wants to kill this man right now, which is completely strange for him. No matter how much they beg or cry, it’s never affected him before. He cuts the rope quickly, freeing Castiel. He doesn’t move though. “Please.”

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong Cas.” Dean strokes his hair but Castiel jerks back. He’s crying so hard now he can barely catch his breath. He keeps begging, only stopping to take a breath in between. Before Dean can react he hears sirens in the distance. “Shit.”

Castiel watches as Dean panics, scrambling around the hotel room frantically. “I’m sorry.” He is saying as he packs up his stuff. He looks over his shoulder at Castiel, his hands visibly shaking. “I’m sorry. I have to go, they’re looking for me. Please don’t tell them.”

“No!” Castiel yells, sliding from the chair onto the bathroom floor. “Please. Please don’t leave me.” He means it as don’t leave me alive, but Dean takes it differently. In a split second decision he decides that for once he’s going to save a life, instead of taking one. He grabs Castiel by the wrist, pulling him to the door. Neither of them even acknowledge the fact that he’s barefoot, in nothing but his boxers. Dean drags him to the impala, the duffel bag clutched in his other hand. Castiel lets him, still hoping that at some point in the night he’s going to be put out of his misery.

He slides into the backseat of the impala when Dean opens the door for him. He curls up in a ball as Dean gets into the driver seat. The car lurches forward but Castiel stays curled up, trying to make himself feel safe. After what feels like an eternity Dean clears his throat. “I’m Dean.” He says awkwardly.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asks quietly. His voice is shaking, and he’s not sure if its fear or the fact that he has no clothes on.

“Somewhere far away. I need to lay low for a bit.”

“Why?”

“The FBI wants me, real bad. I need to say off their radar.”

“You’re a serial killer?” Castiel asks, his voice still shaking. There’s a fleece blanket on the floor next to his head, but he’s afraid to grab it. He just wants this to all be over. He doesn’t have anything left in him anymore.

“I'm a monster.” Dean says quietly, checking his mirrors. No one is following them, which is a good sign. He merges onto the freeway, headed south. After a few minutes of awkward silence Castiel finally decides to grab the blanket. He wraps it tightly around himself, warmth seeping into his bones. He uncurls the slightest bit as Dean turns the music up, an AC/DC song coming through the speakers. For the first time in months he feels safe, which is the strangest fucking thing he could imagine. As he starts drifting to sleep Dean starts singing along softly, almost like Castiel’s personal lullaby.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little short, but I'll update in the next day or two and the next chapter is a lot longer!! Enjoy (:

Two states over Dean decides to get a motel room. It’s nine in the morning and he’s exhausted. When he stops the car Castiel jerks awake. Dean turns around in his seat, a nervous smile playing on his lips. He’s not sure if Castiel is going to scream and run, or keep acting like a person with no will to live. From the way Castiel pulls the blanket tighter around himself and burrows down in the seat, Dean thinks it’s going to be the latter. “I need to stop and sleep. It’s been a long ass day.”

“That’s fine.” Castiel whispers, looking out the window. The motel is dingy and run down, but Castiel doesn’t really have the energy to care. “Are you waiting until they’re off your trail?”

“For what?” Dean asks, wiping a hand down his face. He turns the car off. 

“To kill me.” Castiel says quietly, his voice cracking a little bit. 

“Do you want me to kill you?” Dean asks, turning all the way around in his seat.

“I know it’s fucked up. But, I’m just exhausted.”

“Well you can sleep in the room too.”

“Not that kind of exhausted.” Castiel shifts awkwardly, staring down at the impala floor. Depression is really hard to explain to someone who hasn’t really experienced it. Although maybe a serial killer has experienced it. “Have you ever been depressed?”

“A bit. Nothing too drastic though.”

“It’s exhausting. No matter how much sleep I get, I’m exhausted all the time.” Castiel shrugs. “It’s exhausting to be alive when you don’t want to be. It takes a lot of energy.” Dean thinks of all the people that have fought so hard to live right in front of him. All the people that have clawed and begged. He’s been depressed before, but he can’t imagine not having the will to live. It’s basic human instinct, to fight for survival. 

“Let’s just get some rest.” Dean says, getting out of the car. He slams his door shut and opens Castiel’s. He grabs the duffel bag from where he threw it last night, then moves aside for Castiel to come out. 

“I don’t have any clothes.” Castiel says quietly, staring at the parking lot past Dean. Dean shifts and sighs. 

“I forgot about that.” He wipes a hand down his face, something Castiel has noticed he does a lot. “Just stay here while I buy the room.”

“Okay.” Dean goes to tell him not to run. He thinks about threatening him, telling him he’ll kill him if he’s not here when he comes back. But Castiel isn’t a normal victim, so he just leaves him. He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anyway. 

Castiel leans his head against the impala window, his eyes sliding shut. He wonders if anyone knows he’s gone yet. He had a shift at the café this morning, but it wouldn’t be the first one he’s missed. Honestly, no one will probably start looking until Friday, when Dr. Lucas realizes he’s gone. Maybe people will think he killed himself, not even bothering to look. 

When Dean comes back he’s carrying two paper coffee cups and he’s smiling. “They had a double room available. Let’s go.”

“Okay.” Castiel slides out of the seat, his bare feet slapping against the pavement. He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, not wanting anyone to see him. He probably looks like a crazy person, not that he cares. Dean walks towards a room on the far side of the lot, and he follows willingly. He wonders if Dean will kill him here. He sees dead bodies dumped at crappy hotels on the news all the time. 

When they get into the room Dean throws his duffel on the bed closest to the door, claiming it. “You hungry?” He asks Castiel softly. Castiel slumps down on the other bed, pulling his knees to his chest. He shakes his head. “You sure? You haven’t ate in a really long time.”

“Is it like my last meal, or whatever?” Castiel knows serial killers usually have a routine. Maybe this is a part of Dean’s. Dean locks the door of the motel room and starts rifling through his duffel bag. He seems angry.

“I’m not going to kill you. Not today, probably not ever.” Dean says through gritted teeth. 

“Why not?” Castiel looks at Dean, his eyebrows furrowed. “Am I not good enough?”

“Dammit, Cas. That’s not it.” He shakes his head. “Get some rest, I’m going to get some food. You allergic to anything I should know about?” 

“No. I’m okay.” Dean nods, grabbing the impala and hotel room keys and walking to the door. 

“Lock the door behind me please. I don’t want anyone disturbing you.” 

“Why do you care?” Castiel asks, resting his head on the hotel pillow. It’s probably dirty but he doesn’t care anymore. The fleece blanket brings enough comfort to him for it to be okay. He hasn’t had an anxiety attack since this whole situation started. Maybe because he’s in shock, but maybe it’s because for once he feels a tiny bit okay, as fucked up as that is. 

“I don’t know.” Dean says, opening the door. He sighs, shaking his head. “I really don’t know.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another update since you are all so amazing (: Thank you guys for the kudos and comments, and feel free to submit prompts for ficlets! Enjoy (:
> 
> WARNING: There is a few paragraphs that may make some people uncomfortable in this chapter. It's Castiel discussing his rape. If you would like to skip over it, I wrote it in a way that you see it coming. The conversation starts with the paragraph that begins with ""Okay." Castiel shifts on the bed, almost like he's preparing himself." AND the conversation ends with "He takes a deep breath." 
> 
> It's no graphic descriptions or anything, just telling Dean that it happened. I personally think it'll be safe to read but it's absolutely up to you!

Dean comes back an hour later, with two bags of burger king french toast sticks. Castiel is passed out on his bed, the fleece blanket tangled in his legs. His bare back is covered in scars, picking Dean’s interest. He walks over to the sleeping boy, watching his face as he breathes softly. Dean hasn’t cared about someone other than Sammy in years. He dated Lisa almost five years ago, but that only lasted a few months. When she found what he does, she freaked out and left him. Although he has to admit, she did love him enough not to call the cops on him. 

That was back when he killed monsters. His victims consisted of killers, rapists and pedophiles. He didn’t get addicted until last year, when regular people started looking appealing. But Castiel is different. Dean would rather focus less on Castiel, and more on trying to kill the demons haunting him. Dean’s been depressed before, but not like this. For the first time in a long ass time, he wants to hold someone instead of strangle them. It’s a new feeling for him, he’s not sure if he likes it.

Castiel stirs, his big blue eyes fluttering open. Dean expects him to jump or maybe yell, but instead he looks peaceful. He offers Dean a small smile. “It’s okay.”

“What is?” Dean asks, putting the food down on the side table. 

“Kill me. I know you want to. I don’t know why all of a sudden a serial killer wouldn’t want to kill, but whatever I did to gain your mercy or whatever, it’s okay. Just kill me.”

“No.” Dean hands Castiel one of the bags. “Eat your breakfast.”

“But-” Dean’s anger rises. He stops opening his bag, giving Castiel a stern look. 

“Eat your damn breakfast Castiel.” His voice falters on yelling, but he’s not there yet. Castiel stares at him for a moment, his mouth slightly open. 

“I’m sorry.” His bottom lip starts quivering as he opens his bag. He pulls out the box of french toast sticks and little cups of syrup, setting them down gently on his lap. Dean watches him carefully, noticing how his hands are shaking. He feels bad for yelling at the kid, but his will to die is getting frustrating. Dean sees people all that time that are desperate to live, that are willing to do anything. Granted, he never gives in to them, but it’s still scary to see a human being that doesn’t want to at least try. It makes Dean not want to kill him. It makes Dean want to protect him. 

Castiel moans around the french toast stick, making Dean snap out of his thoughts. Castiel’s eyes are closed, as if he hasn’t ate in days. From the way his sweater and jeans hung off him yesterday, that could very well be a possibility. “I just a need a few days, maybe a week, for the feds to get bored. Then I can bring you back to school.” Castiel jumps, his eyes wide and scared.

“Take me back?” He asks quickly, his voice cracking. Dean sets down the food in his hands, wiping his fingers on the bedspread. He sighs, a headache starting to begin in the center of his forehead.

“Yeah. That’s where you belong.” Dean is getting irritable. He didn’t get to kill like he wanted to, which is a heavy blow to his day. He also has the feds riding his ass, which isn’t something he has had to deal with in a few months. He shouldn’t have let himself get sloppy with that last asshole. 

“I don’t want to go back.” Castiel whispers, his damn bottom lip quivering again.

“I’m not killing you.” Dean states firmly, staring at Castiel. Castiel shakes his head the tiniest bit, biting his lip to stop it from shaking. He looks away from Dean, picking at the fleece blanket. 

“You don’t have to kill me. Just-” Castiel sighs, his voice sounding like he’s going to cry. “Just don’t make me go back.”

“Why?” Dean asks. He doesn’t know why he even cares, but something about Castiel is getting under is skin. He’s starting to feel a new addiction coming on, and honestly this one might be even unhealthier than the rest. Castiel doesn’t look at him, and he doesn’t say anything. What Dean says next is something he knows instantly he’ll regret. It’s a bad idea to keep Castiel around. He’s pure and innocent, and sad. Being around Dean won’t be good for him. “If you can make me understand, I won’t make you go back.”

“I can stay?” Castiel asks, hopeful. His blue eyes move up and find Dean’s. They’re shining for the first time since Dean met him. “With you?”

“Yeah. But you have to help me understand.” Dean takes a bite of his food, thinking over what he wants to know. “I need to understand why you don’t want to go back. Why you don’t want to live. And why you’re willing to stay here with a psycho like me.” 

“Okay.” Castiel shifts on the bed, almost like he’s preparing himself. He takes a deep breath and gives Dean a weak smile. “I was raped last year.” Dean feels like he was hit by a train. Someone hurting Castiel? For some reason, it makes him want to scream. It makes him want to rip something apart. He can’t believe less than 24 hours ago, he wanted to hurt him. He can’t believe he got that close. 

“Cas,”

“Let me finish, please.” Castiel says, his hand up to stop Dean. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Dr. Lucas. Of course, he skirted around it enough so that he figured it out, but he had never said the words. He always thought if he didn’t admit it, maybe it would go away, but now that he was telling someone he couldn’t stop. It felt so damn good. “I was walking home from a night class last year and some guy grabbed me, just like you did. I thought he was coming after me again, actually. But anyway, he grabbed me and put me in his car with one of his friends. They were frat boys, I had seen them around before. They brought me back to the house. It was Thanksgiving weekend so most people were gone for the holidays. No one was there to see what they were doing or to hear me scream for help. One just filmed the whole time, but the other one. Well- he raped me.”

Castiel takes a deep, steadying breath. “He raped me and when it was over he didn’t even have the decency to give me my clothes back, or to warn me not to tell. He just told me to leave and went to the bathroom. He just expected me to fucking take it. To leave and not tell anyone. And the worst part is, I did just that. I walked across campus in the middle of February, bare naked and bleeding. It was like four in the morning so no one saw me. And the next morning I went to work. And the following Monday, I went to class. And I didn’t tell anyone.” He takes another deep breath. “I tried killing myself a week later. Then again in March, and again in June. My therapist claims I didn’t actually want to die. But I did. I really did. My roommate was supposed to be gone for the first time, but he came home early. He called an ambulance and they pumped my stomach.” Castiel laughs. “Isn’t that the most cliché fucking thing you’ve ever heard? I mean that’s right out of a movie. Except unlike a movie, I didn’t realize how precious life is and decide to live. The only thing I realized was what my suicide would do to my parents and my siblings. I saw their faces, they were crushed.”

“The second time, in March, I was wasted. I started cutting my wrists before I could stop myself. Then I started thinking of my family again and I stopped the bleeding myself. I hadn’t cut too deep yet. The third time I drank myself into a coma. They didn’t think I was going to wake up. Technically it wasn’t classified as a suicide attempt, since it was at a party. I don’t know, apparently it doesn’t count if you weren’t alone? Stupid but whatever. Then my parents threatened to stop paying for my school if I didn’t start taking medication and seeing a therapist three times a week. I had to stay in school. Even though everywhere reminded me of that fucking night, I had to be away from my family. I love them, but they’re suffocating.”

“Damn.” Dean whispers, shaking his head. His head hurts like hell now, but not from frustration or anger. He’s overwhelmed. He can’t keep Castiel, he can’t help him. He needs medication and doctors. I mean it’s almost been over a year since his rape and he’s still alive, that has to mean something. They had to have been helping at least a little.

“Yeah.” Castiel shrugs. “So I want to stay with you because it means being away from that fucking school while also being away from my family. I want to die because I can still feel him. I can still smell him. I can still hear his voice. Ninety percent of the time I feel like an elephant is sitting on my damn chest. The other ten percent of the time I’m sleeping, which usually consists of nightmares. So there’s no escape. I feel numb. I cut myself or burn myself and I feel alive for maybe an hour, but then I’m numb again. I’m numb and I’m exhausted and I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

“Okay.” Dean says quietly, his food cold now. He throws it into the burger king bag and places the bag on the table. He wipes his hands on his jeans and gives Castiel a warm smile. Castiel has tears rolling down his cheeks, but Dean’s pretty sure he doesn’t notice. “You can stay with me. But there’s some rules.”

“Rules? I already told you the three things you wanted to know.” 

“They’re rules to keep you safe, and to keep us from getting caught. My rules to live by.”

“Okay.” Castiel does the same with his food as Dean. Then he wraps the fleece blanket around himself again, pulling his knees to his chest. Dean actually forgot he wasn’t wearing any clothes. He must be freezing. 

“They’re pretty simple.” Dean says, standing up and making his way over to the duffel bag. He pulls out a pair of sweatpants and one of his faded flannel shirts. He hands them to Castiel. “I know they’ll probably be pretty baggy on you, but you look cold.”

“I’m okay.” Castiel whispers, his fingers clutching at the fabric. 

“Put the damn clothes on Cas.” He stands up quickly, pulling the sweatpants on first. Dean sits back down, watching him button the flannel shirt with shaking fingers. He didn’t mean to scare him, but he has a feeling he only reacts to strict orders. “There’s really only two big rules. I might add more later. I’ve never done this with someone else so I could only think of two so far. The first one is you listen to me, no matter what. You always listen to me. The second is, when we’re out in public always keep your head down. You never know where security cameras are going to be, and once your family reports you missing people will be looking for you.”

“Okay.” Castiel shifts awkwardly. 

“You can sit down, weirdo.” Dean says with a light laugh. Castiel looks at the bed and shakes his head.

“I prefer to stand sometimes.” Dean stares at him like he’s a freak. Castiel moves away from the bed, standing in the middle of the room. Dean shifts so he can keep looking at him. “It helps with the anxiety.” Dean nods like he understands, even though he doesn’t. 

“So are the rules okay?” He asks softly. Castiel nods, shifting on his feet. He swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“They’re fine. It’s just, um.” He can feel his cheeks heating up. “What do you mean by always listen to you, no matter what?”

“Well, I’ve been around the block a few times. I know what’s best.”

“Right. Of course.” Castiel nods quickly, his hands shaking by his sides. “I just, you aren’t going to make me-” Castiel stops, looking anywhere but at Dean. 

“Make you what?” Dean asks, standing up. He’s only a few feet away from Castiel. He wants to come closer but for some reason the boy is shaking, and Dean doesn’t want to scare him off. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Castiel’s voice cracks. He’s staring at the ground, his whole body trembling. Tears are filling his eyes again and Dean’s heart breaks. He takes a step towards him, his breath catching when Castiel automatically steps back. 

“I would never-” Dean wipes a hand down his face, stepping back again. His body is shaking too now. “Cas, I would never make you do that. You won’t see my victims, you won’t hear about them.” Dean isn’t sure how he’s going to even make that happen, with them traveling together, but he’s going to figure it out. 

“Okay.” Castiel goes to the bed, sitting down again. A weight Dean didn’t know was on his shoulders lifts, and he realizes he cares a lot more about this kid than he thought. 

“We need to stay low for the day. Get some rest and we can get on the road again once its dark. When we’re farther away we can stop at a mall, get you some clothes.”

“I don’t have any money.” Castiel says quietly, pulling the sleeves of Dean’s flannel over his hands and clutching it in his palms. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean walks over to the window and pulls the curtain shut, then kicks his boots off. The room is dim now, the only light coming from the sides of the window. He lies down on the bed and looks over at Castiel. He’s lying down already, the flannel blanket wrapped tightly around himself. Dean smiles. He’s had that blanket for years, but he has a feeling Castiel has officially claimed it. Not that Dean minds. He looks safe wrapped up in it. And Dean likes Castiel feeling safe. He hopes one day he can do the same for him. Wrap him up in his arms instead of fabric. 

“Goodnight Dean.” Castiel whispers before curling up into a ball.

“Goodnight Cas.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think it's unhealthy how obsessed I am with this story... I CAN'T STOP WRITING!! Oh well, I'm sure you guys won't complain!! Appreciate it though, my University's midterms are this week so I'll be studying my little ass off. It might be a few days until I can give you more :(
> 
> This next chapter is a long one again, and I have a strong feeling it'll be one of my favorites in the whole story. Anyone who has struggled with depression knows how refreshing it is to have that one good day, and I figured Castiel was in need of one. Enjoy (:

When Castiel wakes up its mid-afternoon. Dean is snoring softly in the bed beside him. He lies awake staring at him. His freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, making Castiel’s heart flutter. One of his hands is resting on the pillow beside his head. Castiel watches it, trying to imagine the long, callused fingers holding a knife or tying knots. For some reason it makes something start to stir in the pit of his stomach. He shifts on the bed, trying to get more comfortable, and the springs creak. Dean jumps slightly, waking up. 

“What time’s it?” He slurs, squinting at Castiel in the darkness. Castiel glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 

“3:09.” 

“We should get on the road.” Dean sits up quickly, dragging a hand down his face. He cracks his neck and shakes his head like he can shake the sleepiness away. Castiel stands up, walking over to the bathroom. He shuts himself inside and takes a deep breath. After going pee, he washes his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with the boy in the mirror. When he goes out into the room again, Dean is sitting on the bed with the duffel bag beside him. Without a word he stands up and heads outside, leaving the door open for Castiel. Castiel grabs the fleece blanket off his bed and follows Dean. 

The fall air is crisp, and Castiel can almost taste winter in it. Dean’s hunched over the trunk, pushing things around quickly. Castiel comes to stand behind him, glancing over his shoulder. He’s not sure who jumps more- Castiel when he sees all the dangerous instruments and rope, or Dean when he realizes Castiel is looking. Dean clears his throat and slams the trunk shut, whatever he was looking for forgotten about. “You shouldn’t have seen that.” His voice is low and gruff, sending chills up Castiel’s spine. 

“It’s not like I don’t know what you do Dean.” Castiel shrugs, opening the door to the back seat. He throws the fleece blanket onto the seat and goes to get in.

“You don’t have to sit back there, ya know.” Dean says quietly, his hands resting on the trunk still. The muscles of his arms are rippling from the weight he’s putting on them. 

“I prefer to have open space, helps my anxiety.” Castiel shrugs, kicking a rock on the ground. He looks up, making eye contact with Dean. He gives him a small smile. “You don’t scare me, I promise.”

“If you say so.” Dean pushes off the trunk, going to the driver’s seat quickly. He slides in as Castiel is getting comfortable in the backseat. “I want to put another hour or two behind us, then we can grab some food and get you some clothes.” 

“Okay.” Castiel leans his head up against the door, staring at the back of Dean’s seat. He doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he usually only eats one meal a day, if that. He’s usually so   
numb he doesn’t feel the hunger. He’ll try and eat for Dean though. He doesn’t want to see disappointment on his face, as strange as that is. 

At some point in the trip Castiel falls asleep. When Dean realizes it he turns his music down to a low volume, not wanting to wake the kid up. He thinks back to high school, when he took a psychology class. He vaguely remembers learning about depression and anxiety, but he didn’t pay much attention. A girl two rows in front of him was the girl whose pants he was trying to get into that week- much more important at the time. He does know from commercials that people can get worse if they stop taking their medication without consulting a doctor, which makes Dean nervous. Castiel said earlier he was taking pills, and of course they were in such a hurry that he didn’t get to grab, well, anything.

Dean’s thoughts begin wandering, starting with the idea of Castiel cutting himself, and the sick feeling he gets in his stomach. He starts pondering why he hates the idea of Castiel bleeding, but loves the idea of doing the same exact thing to someone else. His hands start shaking as he realizes how bad he might be for Castiel’s health. Someone who is so infatuated with the idea of death probably shouldn’t be around it as often as Dean is. But Dean doesn’t really have an option. He refuses to bring Castiel back to that school now that he knows what happened. He probably wouldn’t even if Castiel begged. 

Castiel stirs in the backseat just as they roll into a small town in Virginia. He yawns and stretches, making little whimpering noises that send Dean damn close to the edge. Dammit, he needs to kill, and soon. “What do you feel like eatin’?” He asks quickly, trying to distract himself. He can’t kill, not yet. He has to give Castiel time to adjust to the idea. He doesn’t want to scare him off, because honestly he’s already obsessed with this kid, and he doesn’t want him going anywhere. 

“Whatever you want.” Castiel scans the places they’re passing, not impressed. He usually tries to avoid fast food, well food in general, but especially fast food. Dean picks up on his scrunched face quickly, realizing nothing looks appetizing to the boy. He sees a sign for the mall a ways down the road. 

“We can hit the mall down there. It looks big enough to have a restaurant or two in it.” 

“Okay.” Castiel pulls at the sleeves of the flannel he’s drowning in right now. He’s not sure if he wants to go back to his own clothes. He feels so much safer surrounded in the faint smell of Dean. 

When they pull into the parking lot Dean curses silently. It’s really busy, especially for it being the middle of a work day. Dean bites his lip for a second but then nods, deciding it’s worth the risk. Castiel deserves a few nice things, especially if it’ll make him smile again. When they get out of the car Castiel looks around nervously, biting his lip. “Food, or shopping first?” Dean asks quietly. He should be the one nervous going into such a busy public place. He’s not quite sure why Castiel looks like he’s ready to pass out. 

“Umm, I’m not really hungry yet. But if you are, we can eat first.” 

“No, I want you to actually eat some damn food. I’ll wait until you’re hungry.” Dean starts walking towards the mall entrance, his head hanging low. Castiel follows closely behind him, wringing his hands. If Dean gets caught, this is all over. His parents will come to the rescue and they’ll probably never even give him the freedom to leave their sight again. 

When they get inside there are people all over the place. Dean tries to keep his head down the best he can, hoping that Castiel is doing the same. Of course, it’s the rule and Castiel has always been good at following rules. Castiel is trying to scan the crowd without lifting his head too much. When his eyes land on a specific store, he smiles. “Dean.” Castiel whispers loudly, grabbing his hand and tugging gently. Dean jumps at the contact, but doesn’t panic. He’s not used to being touched quite yet, but he’s hoping it’ll grow on him. 

“Sup, sweetheart?” Castiel points, smiling for the first time in a while. Lids is just across from them, having a buy one get one sale. Dean smiles. “You’re a smart one.” Castiel’s whole body sings with the praise. They walk quickly over, and Dean has to make a split decision. The girl behind the counter has a high ponytail and glasses. She’s hiding a book behind the register, reading it during the slow period. She’s smart, she definitely watches the news. Castiel’s face has been plastered everywhere, whereas Dean’s is just a slightly off sketch from a witness a few months back. He grabs Castiel. “You go stand in the corner of the store, act interested. She can’t see you.”

Castiel nods, listening to the rules once again. He goes straight to a green hat, running his fingers over it. It’s got a giant yellow “G” on it. Dean recognizes the logo, a football team from Wisconsin. Dean goes over to the wall of ball caps, scanning it for a similar hat. He finds one that looks a lot like it, and grabs it. A few seconds later he finds a Kansas one, grabbing that too. 

He walks over to the girl, hoping she’s too focused on the book behind the counter to pay any more attention than the prices on the hats. He’s right. She barely even looks at him as she rings him up, smacking her gum slightly like she’s impatient to get back to her story. “The green one’s free. Your total is 19.95.” 

Dean slaps a twenty down on the counter, grabbing the hats before she can even bag them. “Keep the change.” She shrugs, not even glancing at him as she pulls out the book again. Castiel glances over his shoulder, seeing that Dean’s leaving. He catches up quickly, smiling when Dean hands him the hat. He almost asks him how he knew, but he’s a serial killer. It’s vital he pays attention to detail. They both pull the caps really low on their foreheads, smiling as they lift their heads to look at each other. 

“Didn’t take you for a football fan.” Dean says, tapping the tip of Castiel’s brim. 

“Everyone’s a Packer fan in Wisconsin. Practically a sin not to be.” They starts walking through the crowds slightly more confident. They still keep their heads down, partially to be extra careful but also just out of habit. 

When Castiel sees Banana Republic he pauses, but then keeps going. Dean notices. “You wanna go in?” 

Castiel waves it off, biting his bottom lip. “It’s expensive.”

“But it’s what you’re used to.” Its obvious Castiel is from a rich family. He’s practically the walking opposite of Dean. Of course, Dean has a fat stack of cash from victim’s wallets and houses. He grabs Castiel by the arm and leads him into the store, trying not to grimace. Places like these make his skin crawl. He can’t stand snooty people. The feeling passes quickly when he sees how excited Castiel looks. His blue eyes are shining as he scans the walls of clothing and scarves. He walks over to a display of cashmere sweaters in a daze. Dean tries not to smile at the sight of him. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees a rack of flannels. He walks towards them, whistling at the price on the display. Once he swipes a hand down one of them he realizes why. They’re exactly what a flannel should be. A hell of a lot better than the ten dollar ones he usually grabs from Walmart. By the time he decides what two he wants to buy, Castiel has disappeared. Panic wells up in Dean’s chest, his hands shaking. He’s scanning the crowd quickly, trying not to show his fear. The last thing he needs is to draw attention. 

Just as Dean’s whole body is starting to shake, Castiel comes out of the dressing room. His huge smile slips when he sees the look on Dean’s face. “What is it?” He asks quickly, trying to stay calm. He looks around the store quickly, his concern growing as Dean grabs his arm and pulls him to the corner of the store. 

“You scared the hell out of me. You can’t just go disappearing Cas.”

“I wanted to try these on.” Castiel clutches the clothing in his hands, his bottom lip shaking. He looks like he’s about to break down and Dean feels like shit. He let the kid get all happy and excited, and then yelled at him. He’s such an asshole. Dean shakes his head, running a hand down his face.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I just got scared.” Dean shakes his head again, feeling stupid. He looks at the clothes in Castiel’s hands, trying his best to smile despite the butterflies swarming his stomach. “What’d you find?”

“Oh my god!” Castiel practically squeals, his happiness coming back again. “So I found these amazing cashmere pull overs, and a few cable knits. And then there’s a sale on skinny jeans so I found a few pairs of those. And then I grabbed a few henleys and vnecks, in case we go south.” Dean raises his eyerbows. That’s more clothes than he’s owned in years. He looks down at his two flannels, biting his lip. Castiel looks at them too. “Oh perfect! I was gonna tell you they had those here. I’m glad you found them.”

“Yeah. I dunno if I’ll get em though.”

“Why not?” Castiel asks, trying not to drop any of the clothes in his arms. When Dean just shrugs it dawns on Castiel and he steps closer to the man. “Hey, you deserve them.”

“They’re just really nice.”

“You deserve nice things Dean.” Castiel whispers. Dean bites back a frown. He can’t help but think I know, but I already have you. 

 

 

By the time they’re back in the impala, Dean is over a thousand dollars in the hole and Castiel has added two scarves, a beanie, another vneck, and a green flannel- because it brings out Dean’s eyes - and they aren’t arguing about it. They’re stomachs are full of Italian, since the Olive Garden does carry out. And they even bought the impala an air freshener that, according to Castiel, smells like Christmas. Dean doesn’t really think Christmas has a smell, but he’s also not about to argue with Castiel about it. 

They head into the mountains, both feeling lighter than they have in months- maybe even years. They listen to the radio, taking turns on their favorite stations. Dean finally finds his favorite Classic Rock station, pumped that he can pick it up even with the mountains in the way. Castiel tries not to roll his eyes as Dean starts crooning Every Rose Has Its Thorn. By the second time the chorus comes around, Castiel is entranced. It’s like Dean’s singing directly to him. When the songs over Castiel quickly starts turning the knob, not sure if he can handle hearing Dean’s voice again. That man can sing.

When he hears Ed Sheeran he stops quickly, turning it up louder. Dean groans. “No. Don’t tell me you listen to this hippie shit!”

“Ed Sheeran is NOT shit!” Castiel yells, turning it up even louder. Dean roll his eyes and pouts, but he also doesn’t touch the radio. It makes Castiel smile. He listens for a while, trying his best not to sing along. His voice is terrible, especially compared to Dean’s, but he’s in such a good mood it’s damn hard not to join in. Eventually he gives in, deciding that Dean has no room to judge him. 

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved.” He’s singing softy, but Dean can still hear him over the music. He tries not to concentrate on the lyrics, but his heart is already pumping faster. “This feels like falling in love.” Dean clears is throat, making Castiel glance over at him as the song finishes. Dean takes his breath away, making him whisper instead of sing the last line. “We’re falling in love.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to thank everyone that has been commenting and giving me kudos. I love this story so much and it means the world that other people feel the same way. Love you all!! 
> 
> Enjoy (:

After a while Castiel starts getting a headache from his ears popping while driving through the mountains, but he doesn’t want to complain. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the cool window. Just as he can feel the warm comfort of sleep at his fingertips, Dean coughs. Castiel opens his eyes. He catches Dean looking at him, making Dean blush. “There’s a beach town in North Carolina I’m hoping to get to by morning. It should be pretty dead this time of year, a perfect place to chill for a while.” Castiel isn’t sure why he’s telling him this. Doesn’t Dean realize he’s okay with whatever the plan is? He’ll go anywhere Dean takes him, as scary as that is. 

“Okay.” Castiel says quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I’ve never seen the ocean.” 

Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Well then we are definitely staying there for a while. Everyone deserves to see the ocean.” Dean nods, thinking to himself for a second. “Just wait until you see it. No one wants to die when they have their toes in the ocean. The saltwater will cleanse your depression, I swear.” Dean sounds so determined that Castiel almost believes him. Just like he almost believed the doctors and the psychiatrists. Only this time, he’s actually willing to try. 

 

 

The saltwater doesn’t cleanse his depression, but he’s pretty sure Dean might. They’ve been at the beach for three days now. They found a rental agency that was so desperate for winter customers that they were willing to overlook a background check for cash up front. They have the house for two weeks, and even though Dean thought he’d go crazy stuck in one place, it’s not all that bad. They spent the first day at the beach, even though it was freezing cold out. Castiel did admit that he felt more alive with his toes in the water, although he sadly shook his head no when Dean asked if the urge was gone. They’ll work on that.

The second day Castiel woke Dean up burning french toast. Dean laughed his ass off as Castiel grumpily waved the smoke away from the smoke detector. Dean ate it anyway. He even had seconds. They spent the day exploring the town, with hats and sunglasses on of course. They mini-golfed, and ate at a place that claimed to have the world’s best pie- which Dean claimed was a lie. “Best pie in the world was my ma’s.” He said with a fondness in his voice that Castiel wasn’t familiar with. 

So far day three had been uneventful. It was pouring rain outside and they were going a little stir crazy. Castiel was attempting to read one of the books from the dusty book shelf, but it was terribly written. Dean sat on the couch next to the fireplace, practicing knots. After a while, Castiel stopped reading and watched Dean instead. He thinks about being tied up, about the elephant on his chest from being restrained. He read an article once about desensitization. Studies show that rape and trauma victims can get better by reliving the experience in a different context. He even brought it up to Dr. Lucas, but without a partner to work with him it was pointless. 

“You could practice on me.” Castiel says before he can stop himself. He was so deep in thought he didn’t realize he was standing next to Dean now, or that he was talking out loud. Dean drops the rope in his lap, looking up at Castiel with wide eyes. But Castiel can’t help notice how bright they are in that moment. Like a spark of life coming back. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Dean whispers, his voice husky.

“Have you ever heard of desensitization?” Castiel asks quietly. He already said it, he might as well commit now. He didn’t even realize he wanted Dean to help him until he said it aloud. 

“Isn’t that where you have someone have rough sex with you over and over until you’re rape doesn’t freak you out anymore?” Dean asks, his voice still quiet. Castiel laughs softly, fidgeting with his hands. He’s nervous, really freaking nervous, but not for the normal reason. He isn’t afraid Dean will hurt him. He’s afraid he’ll reject him.

“Kind of. But it can be a lot lower key than that. It can be as simple as restraining so I don’t get that panicky feeling when I’m confined. Or some people have to spoon because they can’t stand the feeling of someone behind them. Sex can be a part of it too, but I mean- you’re probably not gay so.” Castiel shakes his head, feeling like an idiot. Now that he’s hinted at finding Dean attractive, he’s for sure going to get rejected. He tries to cover his tracks quickly. “So anyway, you can practice on me. Your knots or whatever.” 

“Okay.” Dean says, surprising the both of them. Castiel’s breath hitches. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” Dean says again. This time his voice isn’t shaky or unsure. It’s firm. He stands, grabbing Castiel’s upper arm and pulling him to his bedroom. He pauses outside of the door and looks at Castiel. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, I want you to have some control. Do you want me to tie you to a chair, or the bed?” Castiel stares at the bed for a second, a few dirty thoughts flitting through his mind. Dammit, he didn’t even think he thought of Dean this way. He clears his throat and points to the chair. Better safe than sorry. Dean pulls him over to the wicker chair in the corner. He pulls it out and sets it in the middle of the room, then sets Castiel in it. His breathing is accelerated as he plays with the rope in his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks, wondering why Dean is standing there staring at him instead of tying him up. 

“I need a minute.” Dean whispers. Castiel shifts uncomfortably under his stare. When another minute goes by without Dean moving Castiel clears his throat. Dean grips the rope tighter,   
looking unsure. “I just haven’t killed in a while. I just want to make sure I’m calm enough to stay in control.”

“You won’t hurt me.” Castiel says. He meant it to be a question, because the way his heart was racing felt like he was scared, but it came out a statement. And once he said it he realized how true it was. The ways Dean looks at him every once in a while, his eyes soft and his smile warm, is safe. The way he turns the music down when he thinks Castiel fell asleep, or the way Castiel always wakes up with a blanket on him, no matter where he passed out- those are all safe things. Dean feeds him and houses him. He even brought him to put his damn toes in the ocean. “You won’t hurt me.” Castiel says again, and this time Dean listens. 

He starts on Castiel’s right side, slowly winding the rope around his wrist and the arm of his chair. Castiel feels the elephant leaning on his chest. Not sitting, not yet. Just leaning. Dean wraps it three times before tying the knot, then moves to Castiel’s ankle. Castiel wiggles his wrist and almost tells Dean it’s loose, but he realizes Dean’s an expert at this, it’s loose for a reason. Castiel smiles at that. “Whatcha smilin’ at?” Dean slurs, his eyes wide and shining. He feels drunk. Tying Castiel up is almost as good as killing, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. He likes this kid too damn much. He’s glad he picked the chair, because he’s pretty sure if he would have picked the bed Dean would have showed him just how gay he is. 

“Nothin.” Castiel whispers as Dean knots the rope at his ankle. With a new strand he begins on the left side, doing the same as the right. 

“You doin’ okay?” Dean asks roughly, his breathing fast. He shifts slightly and Castiel is ninety percent sure he’s hard under his jeans. 

“Yeah. You?” Castiel asks quietly. He’s not actually doing well. The elephant is sitting very hard on his chest, but he doesn’t want to let Dean down. He can do this. He’s sure of it. 

“Me?” Dean’s voice cracks. He finishes the knot on Castiel’s ankle and decides Castiel is beautiful tied up. “I’m fine.” Dean whispers. He should have had Castiel strip. He loves seeing rope   
rub against flesh. He sits back on his haunches, admiring his work. It’s not his best but he also didn’t want to go all out for Castiel’s first time. Well, hopefully first time. Dean wants to do this again, but he has no idea how Castiel is feeling. Dean runs his fingers lightly along the rope, causing Castiel to shudder. 

“That feels good.” Castiel whispers, his eyes fluttering shut. Dean smirks.

“I’m not even touching you.” Castiel smiles weakly. The elephant on his chest is stomping now but the way Dean is looking at him, the way he just stroked that rope, is worth it. His breathing starts picking up speed even though he’s trying to stay calm. His skin gets a thin layer of sweat and he knows the instant Dean notices. His stance shifts from relaxed and in control to high alert. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m okay.” Castiel says quietly. He’s starting to feel light headed. Without thinking he tugs on the rope, the panic worsening when he feels the resistance. He has room to pull without hurting himself, but when he starts writhing the rope has no choice but to cut his skin. 

“Dammit. Stop!” Dean yells, standing up and reaching into his back pocket. Castiel closes his eyes. He screwed up. He couldn’t calm down. “Stop pulling Cas. I’ll cut the rope just stay still.” Castiel didn’t know how to explain it to Dean. How to make him understand that his veins were on fire, that his chest was caving in. Staying still wasn’t an option. 

“Dean. I can’t.” He’s moving too fast and pulling too hard for Dean to cut the rope. Normally, he wouldn’t worry about accidently cutting the victim, but this isn’t a victim- it’s Cas. Dean tries again to get him to calm down but nothing is working. Panic starts welling in his own chest. He goes into autopilot, doing whatever he thinks will work. He leans over Castiel, placing both hands on his face. He stares into the deep blue eyes for a second, then speaks in the lowest, most demanding voice he has in him.

“Take a deep breath, right the fuck now. Calm down.” He rests his forehead against Castiel’s, his breath softly falling on his lips. Castiel’s whole body is shaking furiously, but his breathing is slowing down. After a few seconds Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair, a soft smile on his lips. When he speaks next his voice is soft and calm. “Good boy. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” Castiel’s eyes had been clenched shut, but at this he opens them. His eyes are wide and vulnerable, making Dean’s heart skip a beat. 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel whispers, his voice sounding on the edge of tears. Dean’s fingers go to the rope, slowly undoing it. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for Cas. You did damn good.” Castiel knows it’s a lie, but at the same time he did do alright for his first time. He says first time, hoping Dean’s willing to do it again. As much of a shit show that was. 

“You didn’t really get to practice.” Castiel whispers, ashamed. Dean cups his chin, making him look at him. He offers Castiel a warm smile. 

“No, but you did.” Dean finishes untying the knot, taking one of Castiel’s wrists in his hand to rub soothingly. “Way more important.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long one for you lovely people (: && you will be getting another one today!! (I'm too impatient not to give you the part that comes next!!) 
> 
> Thank you guys again for the kudos and comments, KEEP THEM COMING PLEASE!! I love hearing from all of you!
> 
> Enjoy (:

The next morning Dean wakes up before the sunrise. He goes for a run on the beach to get rid of some pent up energy, but all it does is make him feel stir crazy when he gets back to the house. He decides a week is long enough, and goes to wake Castiel up.

“Cas.” He whispers, gently shaking the boy. Castiel wakes violently, his arm flailing out. If Dean’s reflexes weren’t so good he’d probably have a black eye. 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel says quickly, sitting up. He looks around the dimly lit room, it can’t be later than 6 in the morning. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know I’m going out for a bit.” 

“Okay. Let me get dressed.” Castiel throws the covers off himself but Dean stops him with a light touch to his wrist. 

“No, not that kind of going out.” Dean isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. It’s not like Castiel doesn’t know who he is, what he does. “I need to go, out.” 

“Oh.” Castiel says quietly, his eyebrows scrunched. He looks deep in thought for a moment. “Why can’t I come?”

“What?” Dean asks incredulously. This kid hasn’t been with him for more than a week, there’s no way he would be ready for something like that.

“I don’t want to watch or anything. Just let me stay in the hotel or whatever. Don’t leave me here.” 

“Oh, I don’t.” Dean shakes his head, not sure how to let Castiel down easily. “I still don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you to be involved. You could be considered an accomplice.”

“Dean, a week ago I wanted to die. Hell, I still do. So I really don’t care about being considered your damn accomplice.” 

“You’re not coming.” Dean isn’t sure if he’s afraid for Castiel’s safety from the cops, or his safety from himself. If he’s around Castiel when he’s in that headspace, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to control himself. He doesn’t think he would hurt him, but when Dean’s high off a kill he doesn’t think straight. He doesn’t even know how he manages to usually clean up so well. When Castiel goes to argue Dean raises a finger, his eyebrows shooting up angrily. “I said you are not coming. What are the rules Castiel?”

“I listen to you, no matter what.” 

“Good boy.” The words send chills down Castiel’s spine. He loves the idea of being good for Dean, almost as much as he loves the idea of being bad for him. Castiel almost jumps at the thought, pushing it out of his mind. He can’t start liking Dean. He’s a serial killer for Christ’s sake. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“What if you get caught?” Castiel asks, his voice nervous. Dean hadn’t even considered the possibility, he’s too good to get caught. But he understands Castiel’s anxious about being abandoned. 

“I’ll be home tonight, by midnight. If I’m not, then I got caught.”

“What do I do then?”

“I won’t get caught.” Dean says simply, shrugging. “It’s not going to happen.”

 

 

She’s blonde and perky, with a big smile and a loud laugh. Her dark brown eyes practically undress him when he offers her a drink. She already looks ready to go home with him, so easy she doesn’t even need persuasion. She’s everything Castiel isn’t, which is perfect. 

Dean’s regretting the midnight deadline now that he’s back in the groove of things. He had to drive over an hour, wanting to put some distance between Castiel and his sins. First thing he did after getting into town was get a room at the dingiest motel possible, knowing it’d be the go to cheap hook up place. After he found a place where moaning and whimpering would be considered sexual instead of deadly, he moved on to walking the streets. He pulled his ball cap down, only looking up when passing local bars and clubs. About forty-five minutes into his walk he found a local bar and grill holding a ladies night, which was perfect. It’d be packed and full of girls desperate for attention. 

He stopped in for lunch, sitting in a dark corner booth and ordering a burger. The waiter could care less about him, more focused on the preparations for the night. The workers were busy running around decorating and stocking all of the alcohol. After his meal he went back to the motel for a nap, then got ready for the night. 

He’s back in the motel now, staring at the girl as she undresses for him. Sometimes he likes to jump straight in, other times he likes to take things slow. He’s in the mood for slow, but the alarm clock next to the bed reminds him he has a limit. It’s already almost nine, giving him less than two hours, which is nothing in murder world. The best part is the torture. The way his veins thrum with the anticipation. He swears, it’s the best drug on the planet. 

When the girl is naked, her blonde hair falling against her breasts, Dean smiles. He’s lying back on the bed, still fully clothed with his boots on. He has one arms slung lazily above his head on the pillow. The girl starts walking towards him, brave and sure of herself. She’s going to be a fighter. Dean looks at the clock again, cursing himself. He really shouldn’t have given himself such a ridiculous deadline. 

“You like being tied up?” Dean asks, keeping the tone of his voice light. 

“Like fifty shades of grey?” She asks, a devious little smile playing on her bright red lips. Too easy. Thank you Christian Grey. 

“Yeah. Exactly like that.” Dean whispers, his voice low and husky now. He doesn’t have to worry about scaring her away, she’s into it. Kinky little thing. 

“You wanna tie me up Dean?” She asks, straddling him. He loves hearing them say his name. Loves knowing that it’ll be one of the last things on their lips. He flips her over, hovering for a second before bringing his lips to her neck. She smells heavenly, and he can feel her pulse under her pale skin. He moans. She laughs a little, thinking it’s from arousal, and he supposes she’s right- he is in fact hard. He’s just hard because he can practically feel the blood he’ll be seeing soon. And a hot girl covered in her own blood, that’s sexy as hell. 

He reaches into his back jean pocket, pulling out the thick rope he used on Castiel. He starts tying her wrists together, before securing them firmly to the headboard. He goes to tie her ankles but decides he wants her to fight him a little. Wants her to think she has a chance. She moans as he starts kissing her neck again. He moves down to her breasts, his fingers exploring her skin. He pulls his dick out of the hole in his jeans. He doesn’t rape. If he wants anything sexual, he does it before they take away consent. And after tying up Castiel, after watching him eat and sleep and laugh and put his toes in the ocean, he needs the release. He needs to fuck something wet and warm and willing, because otherwise he’s going to end up begging Castiel to let him in his bed. Which is wrong. He’s dirty and sinful. Castiel deserves happiness. He deserves the fucking world. 

Dean is pushing into the girl before he even realizes it. She wraps her legs around him, swirling her hips. For a second he wishes she was Castiel, but when he feels the weight of the knife in his back pocket he decides he would definitely rather her instead. He comes a lot faster than he’d like to admit, but in his defense it’s been almost a month since he’s been laid and almost a week since he’s killed. Plus he’s been living with a guy who’s off limits in all the worst ways. His arousal level is at an all-time high. 

The girl gasps when he fills her, her eyes wide. “I’m not on birth control. You should have pulled out!” She yells. He grins, pulling out and smearing his come on her thigh. He gives her one last kiss on her lips, because he’s about to lose that glorious consent. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters!” She shrieks. 

“It really doesn’t.” Dean says, finding her underwear on the floor. He grabs her cheeks hard, wadding the material up and shoving it in her mouth. She yells but it’s muffled now. “I’m going to kill you, so you don’t have to worry sweetheart.” He strokes her hair, loving the way her pupils dilate when he says this. He cherishes the three seconds of confusions, along with the look of pure panic when she processes what he’s saying. Then the kicks start. She keeps screaming, which is fine by him. No one can hear her, and it’ll do nothing besides tire her out. He pulls his knife out, dragging it softly along her skin. It’s just a light tickle but the way she freezes makes it seem like it’s a lot worse. 

She starts saying words, calmly but still muffled. He tilts his head a bit, then pulls the underwear out of her mouth. The worst that could happen is she screams and he stuffs it back in right away. The worst that happens is he has to kill her faster than he wanted to. “Something to say?” 

“You,” She’s out of breath, pulling gently on her restraints. She take a deep, cleansing breath and shakes her head. She thinks she’ll be able to get herself out of this. How cute. “You can’t kill me.”

“And why is that?” Dean asks softly, his head still tilted like he’s actually interested. The knife is still softly making its way up and down her body. Every inch of her is trembling.

“You came inside me. They’ll get your DNA.” She wants to smile but she holds it back. She thinks she got him. “If you let me go I won’t tell. You’ve had too much to drink. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Shit. You’re right.” Dean stumbles back for a second, the knife loosely hanging from his fingers. 

“I am.” She says, nodding furiously. “Just untie me Dean. Untie me and I’ll forget all about it. I swear on my life. I swear on my whole family’s life.” He nods, leaning over her quickly like he’s going to untie her. At the last second he brings his hand down quickly, stuffing the underwear back in. She still looks semi calm, like maybe he’s just shutting her up while he thinks about what’s best. 

“Just three problems with that plan of action. First, you’ll tell.” She starts shaking her head furiously but he grabs her chin, holding it so he can nod her head up and down. “Yes, you will. Don’t be a liar, I don’t like liars.” 

“Second, I love killing so getting this close and then stopping? Not going to happen.” Dean smiles softly, like he would if he was talking to a child. His voice gets soft and sultry. “And third, sweetheart, is I have a car and a house on the ocean. Which is where your body is going. Your bloody, beaten body won’t make it more than a day in that water before it’s eaten down to the bone.”

“Hell, the sharks might even eat your bones. I don’t know.” Dean shrugs, digging the knife into her thigh harshly. She screams around the material, earning a bright smile from Dean. “Do sharks eat bones?” 

She screams again as he twists the knife before pulling it slowly out. “Oh, you don’t have to answer that honey. I really don’t care.” He takes the knife and stabs it into her abdomen next. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching the bright red blood spill over onto the white sheets. It’s gorgeous. She’s not kicking anymore, just staring at the ceiling. She was actually kind of disappointing in that department, although he has to admit she’s probably in shock. He takes the knife and starts cutting small gashes in her skin, just enough to earn blood but not enough to do serious damage. 

Her eyes move from the ceiling to him, silently begging. She’s letting out little whimpers, pulling at the rope around her wrists. He grows hard, thinking about that exact rope rubbing Castiel’s wrists yesterday. He runs a finger through the blood on her stomach, swirling it against her pale skin in patterns. Her eyes flutter shut and he wonders if she’s about to pass out. That wouldn’t be any fun. He slaps her inner thigh hard, making her jolt awake. She has fat tears rolling down her cheeks, one right after the other. 

With her watching he takes his finger up to his lips, licking the blood off slowly. She looks like she’s about to be sick. He looks over at the clock, cursing silently. It’s almost eleven already. He leans over her, hovering slightly. “My boyfriend will be upset if I’m not home on time.” Dean says softly in her ear. Her body starts trembling harder, like she understands what he’s hinting at. Dean doesn’t give two shits that Castiel isn’t his boyfriend. It’s not like the girl will ever get the chance to find out he’s lying. “I’m going to kill you now.” 

This is always Dean’s favorite part. Most killers like their victims so tortured and injured that the final kill is simple, something they slip right into. Not Dean. He makes sure they’re awake, alert. Makes sure there’s some fight left in them. Every person has a slightly different reaction when he tells them this, but they all have one thing in common- they fight. She’s no different. Both her feet kick out, catching Dean in the stomach. He knows she was aiming for his balls, and is honestly glad she missed. It wouldn’t have helped her escape, but it would have still hurt like hell. She starts screaming, louder than ever. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if her throat was bleeding. Dean let’s her writhe and scream for a count of three, then pulls the knife quickly along her neck. A spray of blood hits his face and he licks his lips. He watches as the light leaves her eyes, his smile growing with every ounce of life she loses. 

He’s breathless when she goes completely limp. He rests his head on her chest for a second, closing his eyes. He holds his breath and listens, finding peace in the silence. No heartbeat. He stands up and starts untying her. He wraps her in the sheets and comforter and carries her to the bathroom, kicking off his boats as he goes. He turns the shower on and climbs in, still holding her. He lets the hot water rush over them both, bogging him down with wet fabric. He watches the drain almost in a trance. The water starts out dark red, but slowly turns pink. After what feels like an eternity, and what probably was one, the water is almost clear. Dean decides it’s good enough and climbs back out. He lays her down in the bath, letting the water still hit her and the sheets. 

He walks over to his duffel bag, pulling out a folded up piece of plastic and a change of clothes. He lays the plastic out, unfolding it square by square. Once it’s set he goes into the bathroom and turns the shower off. He picks her up first, letting the cold water drip off her body as he carries her over to the plastic. He lays her down gently, then goes back for the blankets. He wrings them all out the best he can, then lays them on top of her. Next he throws her clothes and shoes on top of the pile. 

He glances at the clock. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. It’s eleven-thirty. “Fuck.” He undresses quickly, wiping himself off with a plain white undershirt. He throws the heap on the pile, glad he chose to wear his cheap Walmart clothes this time around. When he’s dry he pulls a flannel and dark jeans on. He picks up his boots and brings them to the sink, not looking at the bathtub as he starts washing them with his hands. The blood easily slides off the leather and after a few seconds he’s pulling them back on, lacing them up. Next he picks the plastic bundle up, thankful for his summer he spent in the gym. For a few months he thought quitting this hobby would be a good idea, and he tried getting his pent up energy out with an anytime fitness membership. Suffice to say, when he cracked at three am and bashed a guy’s head in with a weight, quitting wasn’t for him. 

No one is outside, thankfully, as he quickly dumps the bundle in the trunk of the impala. He slams it shut and head back inside, scanning the room for his usual checks. Clean bathroom, clean mattress, clean floor. No spray of blood, no extra clothes, no trace of them. He grabs the little notepad and pen on the side table, writing in purposely sloppy handwriting. "I’m sorry I took the blankets. All I have to live in is my car and winter is coming."

He leaves a twenty next to the note. He knows it costs more but he also knows he has to actually seem like he can only afford to live in a car. He scans the room one more time before nodding and shutting the light off. He closes the door and heads towards the impala, a new spring in his step. It was like he had slipped into a new person. His skin was tingling and his head was fuzzy. It’s not until he gets behind the wheel of the impala that he realizes he’s late. His buzz slips a little as he thinks about Castiel sitting at home waiting for him. He hates the feeling it gives him as he stomps on the gas, not making eye contact with the bright red numbers on the clock.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright you guys, here's the next chapter as promised!! Just so you know, there's a self harm trigger in this one. Nothing too bad but self harm is a serious issue so I felt the need to give everyone a heads up! 
> 
> Enjoy (:

At 12:39 Castiel gets out of bed, padding his way down the hall. He gets himself a glass of ice water, sighing as he stares down the clock. His body is filled with anxiety. If Dean really did get caught, what does that mean for him? The elephant is back, and with a vengeance. He keeps drinking the water, hoping it will help. It doesn’t. 

At 12:43 Castiel walks to the bathroom, searching the cabinets. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for he goes to Dean’s room. He searches through his bags, his heartbeat picking up at the glimpse of silver. He clutches the knife in his hand, walking back to the bathroom. He sits on the cool tiled floor, resting his back against the bathtub. He pulls his boxers up, exposing his inner thigh. He tickles his skin for a while with the tip, loving the thrum of anticipation it brings. When the blood is pooled at the surface, turning his skin slightly pink, he pushes deep enough to cut. The rush he feels is exhilarating. The emptiness he felt started disappearing, replaced by warmth. 

At 12:51 he can breathe again. As he picks up the knife and starts a new cut, he decides it wouldn’t be all that bad if Dean was caught. He could still kill himself. Maybe even make it look like Dean did it, so that his family doesn’t have to hurt. By the third cut, he decides that’s a brilliant idea. By the fourth cut, he decides he’ll do it if Dean isn’t back at 1. 

At 12:57, Dean walks in on his sixth cut. The smile on his face is replaced with shock, then fear, then anger. Red, hot anger. His knees buckle and he falls to the floor beside Castiel. Castiel feels drugged. He rolls his head to the side, his eyes barely open. “You came back.” He slurs. Dean’s anger rushes out of him, replaced with ice. 

“Oh, Cas. Of course I came back.” Dean’s hands are shaking as he tries to decide what to do. He’s filled with panic.

“I thought you got caught.” Castiel doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dean is wiping the tears from his cheeks. Dean carefully takes the knife out of his hand, placing it on the floor. He’s pissed when he recognizes it, but doesn’t want to yell at Castiel. 

“I told you I wouldn’t.” Dean isn’t looking at him. Instead his eyes are scanning the bathroom. 

“I wasn’t worth coming back to.” Castiel whispers. Dean stops looking around, his eyes snapping back to Castiel. 

“Don’t say that. That’s not true.” Dean wipes a hand down his face. He stands up, looking in the linen closet. He pulls out two washcloths, running one under cool water and leaving the other one dry on the counter. Carefully, he takes the wet one and begins dabbing at Castiel’s thigh. “You have no idea. I wanted to stay there all night. I wanted to-” Dean stops himself before going into detail. He could go for hours on everything he wanted to do tonight. But instead he came back. 

“Why didn’t you?” Castiel whispers. 

“I needed to come back to you.” Dean shrugs like it’s no big deal, but Castiel’s heart skips a beat. It’s unhealthy. He realizes this as he watches Dean clean his cuts. He’s known this man for only a week, yet the idea of him being gone made him unravel in less than an hour. Dean examines his cuts, looking broken. “I didn’t know you do this.”

“I usually don’t. Only when things get really bad.” Castiel doesn’t have the courage to tell him he was planning on dying in three minutes. The knowledge isn’t necessary, since he’s here now. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cas. I’m sorry I was late. I drove a ways so that we wouldn’t get any heat from the police here. I didn’t want us to have to leave the beach.”

“It’s okay.” Castiel whispers. Dean gives him a stern look, pursing his lips.

“It clearly wasn’t.” When the bleeding is under control Dean switches to the dry cloth, holding it firmly to Castiel’s skin. “New rule.”

“Okay.” 

“No more hurting yourself. Not allowed.” His jaw is set, making it clear it’s not up for discussion.

“Dean.”

“Hey! What’s rule number one?” Dean’s eyebrow is arched.

Castiel sighs dramatically. “I listen to you, no matter what.” 

“Good.” Castiel dies a little. He didn’t get a good boy, just good. Dean’s really upset. What he doesn’t notice is the way Dean’s body is shaking. The way his fingers are lingering a little longer than usual. It was bad enough he was high off a new kill, but to come home to Castiel’s gorgeous pale skin covered in blood? That was irresistible, and nauseating, all at the same damn time. Deans the only one who gets to hurt him. Deans the only one that gets to touch him. 

“Where did you go?” Castiel asks, twiddling his fingers. 

“Don’t worry about it Cas.” Dean places Castiel’s hands on top of the cloth, having him hold it down while he stands up again. He starts rummaging in the cabinet for bandages. When he doesn’t find any he tells Castiel he’ll be right back, going to grab some from his bag. Castiel meets him in his room. “I said I’d be back.”

“They’re cuts Dean, not an amputation. I can walk just fine. They aren’t even bleeding anymore.”

“I don’t want them to get infected.”

“Do I look like someone who would get an infection?” Castiel asks, his nose scrunched up. Dean can’t help but laugh a little at that. Pure, innocent, anxiety filled Castiel? No, he probably peroxides his cuts three times a day. 

“Good point. I’m still putting some bandages on you.” When Castiel opens his mouth to say something Dean points a finger at him. “Don’t argue.” Castiel sigh heavily. He sits on the edge of Dean’s bed, pulling his boxers back up to expose the angry red cuts. 

“Where were you Dean?” Dean sighs heavily. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Castiel tries again. “Was it a boy or a girl?”

“Why do you want to know?” He meant it as an honestly curious question, but it comes out sharp and defensive.

“You were late. It’s my reward.”

“Your reward? You hurt yourself. You don’t get a reward.” That stings a little. Not only did he not get a ‘good boy’ but now Dean’s punishing him. 

“Please Dean.” Dean pauses, chewing his bottom lip. 

“A bigger town, about an hour away.” He takes a deep breath, picturing the blonde all bloody and scared. “It was a girl.”

“Was she pretty.” 

“Yes.” Dean secures the last of the bandages. He looks up at Castiel, who looks hurt by his answer. He gives him a smile. “She had nothing on you though.” He’s not sure why he says it. Maybe because he’s still a little high, or because Castiel is hurt. Maybe it’s just really late, or hell maybe it’s just about damn time he admits his feelings. No matter what, it’s the truth. What he says next is something he should have probably kept to himself, but it comes out anyway. “The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t get you out of my mind Cas.” 

“Killing me?” Castiel squeaks. Dean shakes his head immediately. 

“No. I already told you sweetheart. I’m not killing you.”

“Then what?”

“Go to bed Cas, it’s late.”

“What were you thinking about doing to me?” The question stops Dean in his tracks. He had stood up, about to turn around to open the door for the kid. “Were you thinking about tying me up again?”

“Cas.”

“Because you could. You could right now.” If he was being honest, Castiel would admit that he’s a little jealous of whoever Dean spent the day with. Dead or not, she got him for a few hours that Castiel will never be able to get back. 

“It’s not a good idea.” Dean says quietly, almost whispering. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll tie you up again. I promise. But tonight, I can’t. Tonight, I wouldn’t be able to control it.”

“Okay.” Castiel says, standing up. Dean whips his head around, smiling. 

“Okay? That’s it? No arguing or stomping your feet?”

“I do not stomp my feet.” Castiel says, crossing his arms. Dean rolls his eyes, but the smile is still there. Why is he always so damn happy around this kid?

“You might as well stomp your feet.” Dean laughs at the sour look on Castiel’s face. He runs his hands through Castiel’s hair before thinking about it. Castiel doesn’t seem to mind, and neither does Dean. 

“What’d you do with her?” Castiel asks, Dean’s fingers still tangled in his hair. The good mood is broken and Dean sighs. He doesn’t argue though. He’s too damn tired.

“Before or after?”

“Both.” Castiel will regret it. Both he and Dean know this. It’s too much information. Too much to process. But he asked anyway, so Dean will answer. He owes him that much, because he really was late.

“She let me tie her up and fuck her. Then I, well, then I slit her throat.” Dean’s eyes close for a second, remembering the way she looked. He sighs. “Then I rolled her in plastic, brought her to the pier and dumped her.”

“Dean! She’ll float.” In that moment, Dean realized he was in love. He was head over fucking heels for this messy haired boy with bright blue eyes and an elephant on his chest. He didn’t care that Dean tied someone up, or that he slit her throat. He didn’t say anything about bringing her to shark infested waters and dumping her like trash. He wasn’t judging. All he cared about was Dean getting caught. He smiled, confusing the hell out of Castiel. “Dean!”

“Cas, I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. I was practically raised to kill. She’s not going to float.”

“How?” 

“Because I tied two anchors around her before dumping her. Plus I filled the cut in her abdomen with rocks. She’s either at the bottom of the ocean, or in the belly of some happy fish right now. Either way, out of my hair.” Castiel stares at him for a second, not breathing. He takes a step or two away from Dean. He’s not scared or upset, he just needs his own air. 

“Well, that’s good.” Is all he can think to say. He’s sick and fucked up, but he could care less about the girl with rocks in her belly. All he cares about is the quick image that flashed in his mind- Dean in an orange jump suit, a slab of glass in between them. That won’t ever happen, Castiel decides. Even if he has to kill someone himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you lovely people (: I'll also be uploading a oneshot based on the most recent episode either tonight or tomorrow so keep a look out!! 
> 
> Enjoy (:

Two days later they’re back on the road again, headed south. Dean says it’s because he wants to go in the opposite direction of his past few murders, but Castiel has a feeling it’s partially because he hates the cold. He told Dean it’s like the physical representation of depression, and an hour later Dean announced they were going south. 

Castiel sits in the front seat now, ever since the trip from the mall. For some reason, sitting in the backseat does the opposite for him. Being far away from Dean is what makes him not be able to breathe now. Dean doesn’t mention it until they stop for gas. He slides back into his driver’s seat, a bag of food from the station in his hand. 

“I like you up here.” He says, a slight blush creeping on his face. He doesn’t make eye contact, focusing on taking things out of the bag. 

“I like it up here too.” Castiel shrugs, trying not to smile like an idiot. He doesn’t want to make a big deal of it, but at the same time it is kind of a big deal. He hasn’t ever sat in the front, not even with his parents. 

“I got you some licorice.” Dean says quietly, handing it to him. 

“Thank you.” Castiel turns the station to a channel that plays ‘hippie shit’ according to Dean. Surprisingly, Dean doesn’t complain. After a few songs Castiel turns it down, pulling out the crinkled map Dean keeps in his glove box. “So where exactly are we going?” 

“There’s a beer and wine festival in Northern Georgia this weekend. I figured we could head there.”

“I didn’t take you for the festival type.” Castiel says quietly. 

“Festivals are like a serial killer’s wet dream. Not only are there plenty of drunk, stupid people, but if I grab a loner at the beginning of the weekend, I have at least three days before their friends and family back home notice they’re gone.” Castiel should get a sick feeling in his gut, hearing Dean talk like that. Instead he’s intrigued. He doesn’t want to dwell on that idea, so he examines the map instead. He runs his finger along the main highway they’re on right now. Dean clears his throat. “Are you the festival type?”

“No. Too many people. Plus, drinking just makes me more depressed.” 

“I’ll make sure to get you a nice hotel room for the weekend then. Maybe you could catch a movie or something?” 

“I won’t be with you?” Castiel asks, his voice hitching. 

“No.” Dean cracks his neck, then runs a hand down his face. “I’m hoping to keep whoever I pick up for a few days, so it wouldn’t really be possible for you to be hanging around.”

“I don’t mind.” Castiel says quietly. Dean almost crashes the damn car he turns his head so fast. 

“You what?”

“I don’t mind, being around that. It won’t scare me. You can’t scare me.”

“Cas.”

“Please. I don’t want you to go away. I hated when you were gone, and that was only for a few hours.” Castiel tries hiding the way his voice is trembling, focusing his attention on the map. 

“I’ll come check on you if you need. Or get a room in the same hotel.”

“No. Don’t leave me, Dean, please. Please don’t leave me again.”

“Cas.” Dean shakes his head, sighing. “I don’t think you know what I do. I don’t think you understand.”

“You kill people.”

“It’s more than that. You don’t understand.” Dean clenches his jaw, his nonverbal cue to Castiel to leave it alone. Which in this case, is not going to happen. 

“So then show me.” Cas is turned in his seat now, facing Dean. “I want to understand.”

“Trust me, you don’t. You don’t want to be a part of that.”

“I do. If it’s a part of you, then I do.”

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” Castiel shrugs, even though he does. Dean knows he’s lying but doesn’t push it. 

“What if I show you and you run? I can’t risk losing you Cas.” 

“You won’t.”

“How can you say that? How can you guarantee it?”

“Because when I’m with you I don’t want to kill myself.” Castiel blurts it out. It’s been on his mind since the night Dean left him, but he hasn’t wanted to say it. It’s too much pressure on   
Dean. If Dean doesn’t want him, he should feel free to let him go. Dean’s mouth hangs open slightly. He stares at the road ahead for a long time, trying to process that. He’s been going crazy trying to figure out ways to make Castiel want to be alive, and all this time Castiel just needed him. Castiel sighs, staring out the window. “When I’m with you, I don’t want to kill myself. And I’m not willing to let that go.”

“Oh.” Dean glances over at Castiel, who’s fumbling with his hands. He’s nervous, Dean realizes. He thinks he scared Dean away by admitting such a personal thing. “You can stay then.” Castiel nods quickly, turning the radio up again. They listen to his hippie shit for the rest of the car ride, Dean smiling the whole time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update!! Don't hate me :0 It's midterms at my University and I have been studying like crazy!! This next week might be a little hectic but I am going to try and keep you all pampered, because you guys have been absolutely amazing! 
> 
> Enjoy (:

The town is bustling by the time they roll in. Its dinner time on a Friday night and the streets are full of people. Dean pulls into the hotel that looks the least busy, parking the car and leaving Castiel while he runs in to make a reservation. Twenty-minutes and a lot of flirting later, Dean has the key to a king room on the top floor. Castiel doesn’t even ask how he could afford such a thing, especially on a weekend like this. He has a feeling it has to do with the credit cards in Dean’s wallet with stranger’s names on them. 

The room is gorgeous, all black and white with only a few stark splashes of color. They dump their stuff on the only bed and Dean pulls out a clean pair of clothes to change into. He doesn’t like to be rumpled when he looks for victims, it makes him feel unsettled. He starts to undress right in front of Castiel, causing the boy to turn awkwardly and stare at the wall. When Dean is finished he clears his throat. “Okay.” He says quickly, sliding his wallet and keys into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s in the same faded flannel shirt he let Castiel borrow when they first started this adventure. It’s torture for Castiel, his fingers itching to reach out and touch him. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I thought we agreed to stick together?” Castiel asks, standing up in a panic. Dean shifts, his hand on the door. 

“We didn’t agree you would come with me to get the victim. We agreed we would stay in the same room.”

“I want to come.”

“No.”

“I want to help you choose.” Dean’s whole body freezes. Dread and lust fill him at the same time. He wants nothing more than to kill someone with Castiel. He would kill, literally kill, to see Castiel’s gorgeous body covered in blood. He’d love to fuck him while their skin is slick with someone else’s blood. But at the same time, Castiel is fragile. Dean’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle something as heavy as taking a life, he would crumble under the weight of it. 

“If you choose, then you might as well be holding the knife. You don’t want to do that Cas. You don’t want it to be your fault someone dies this weekend.” Castiel shifts awkwardly. The way Dean is looking at him is hot. He’s pissed, and a little afraid, but the light in his eyes say something else- he’s turned on. He loves the fact that Castiel wants to come with, as much as he shouldn’t. That look in his eyes is what makes Castiel push him. 

“I want to come. I’m a big boy. I’m coming.”

“Cas.” They stare at each other, silence extending for miles between them. Finally Dean sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How does anyone say no to you?”

“They don’t.” Castiel shrugs, pushing past Dean and opening the door himself. Dean follows him down the hotel hall, quietly laughing behind him. 

 

 

“Him.” Castiel says almost an hour later. His long finger is pointing at a guy leaning up against a beer vendor’s cart, his skinny jeans hanging slightly off his hips. His face is smug and his laugh echoes throughout the crowd. He reminds Castiel of the boy who filmed his rape. 

“Why?” Dean isn’t judgmental, just curious. He takes a sip of his beer, his lips wrapping seductively around the bottle. Castiel holds himself back from moaning. 

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me Cas.” Dean says quietly, running a finger down his arm. Castiel’s whole body shudders, his eye lids fluttering.

“He reminds me of that night.” Castiel’s voice is dark and sad. Dean doesn’t have to ask what night. He doesn’t have to ask anything. He pushes forward immediately, walking right up to the guy. Castiel pauses for a second, then follows. 

“Can I have a bottle of your seasonal?” Dean asks the vendor casually. The guy leaning up against the cart stands straight, sizing Dean up. Dean gives him a smile, feeling out the situation. It’d be ideal if the guy was gay, but the world usually doesn’t work that way. By the way he’s looking at Dean, he’s straight. Dean’s posture shifts slightly, going from flirty to laid back “You here alone?” 

“Yeah. I’m a journalist for an online magazine. I’ve been traveling to all the festivals in Georgia.”

“Dream job right there. Drinking beer for a living.” The guy laughs at Dean, lifting his own bottle to his lips. Castiel fidgets besides Dean, nervous. 

“It’s nice for now. Always depends on the story you’re assigned to. Last month I was on a murder trial. That’s not the dream job at all.” Dean laughs dryly, giving the guy a smile.

“Yeah, people are seriously fucked up.” Dean shakes his head, taking a long pull from his bottle. Castiel tries not to laugh, hiding his smile behind his hand. He coughs when he feels a giggle coming on. The sound makes Dean smile slightly, like the twitch of his lips is a secret just for Castiel to notice. 

“What do you do?” The guy asks casually. 

“I’m a cop. These aren’t really my thing, but my boyfriend loves them.” Dean gestures to Castiel, making him blush hard. He offers the man a small smile. “I’m Dean by the way, this is Castiel.” Castiel notices Dean doesn’t use his nickname. He likes the idea of that, Dean keeping it for himself.

“Brenden. Nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to shake. Dean takes it, then shifts slightly so Castiel is blocked from doing the same. For some reason, he doesn’t want Castiel touching him. 

“Listen, we were just going to grab a bite to eat if you want to come? You could probably use a break from the scene.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Brenden says, finishing his beer quickly. “I’d love to get your perspective on that trial I was talking about too. The second part of it will be starting up soon and I’m sure I’ll be assigned again.”

“Sweet. We have to stop by our room real quick though. I have to check my work phone for messages. It’s right across the street from the restaurant if you want to just come with.”

“Yeah, no problem.” The guy finishes his beer, leaving the bottle and a five dollar bill on the cart. Dean starts pushing his way through the crowd, Brenden and Castiel following closely behind him. Castiel can’t get over how easy that was. How natural Dean is, and how hot it was to watch him. For a sick and twisted two or three seconds, Castiel felt excited about what was to come.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the darkness.. these next few chapters will be pretty bleak but they will be followed by some AMAZING fluff. Trust me (; Also, to lighten them up a little there's some smut- so enjoy!!

Two hours into the torturing, Castiel throws up. He’s proud he actually lasted that long. He had been spending most of his time sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet dangling a few inches above the carpet. He hadn’t even seen Brenden since they got in the room. Dean sent him to the vending machine to get two bottles of water, and by the time he was back the bathroom door was closed and the room was eerily silent. Castiel locked the door, the deadbolt and the chain. He had paced back and forth fifty three times, then turned the television on low. Halfway through a family guy episode, the muffled noises began. 

Dean came out of the room a while later, his hands covered in blood. He had a knife in his right hand and his whole body was shaking. He silently took one of the bottles of water and chugged about half of it. Castiel cleared his throat awkwardly, earning a look from him. “Doin’ okay?”

“Yeah.” Castiel says a little too enthusiastically. Dean left the bathroom door slightly open. Castiel can see a shoulder and an arm, both covered in blood. Dean follows his gaze until landing on the partial view. He quickly pushes the door shut. He goes to sit down on the bed but Castiel puts his hand up. “Don’t get the bed dirty.” Dean stops short.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, taking another sip of water. Castiel stares at the television. For some reason, Dean’s presence is making him nervous. “I’m going to go back. You need anything?”

“Nope.” He keeps staring at the screen, biting his bottom lip. He hears Dean shift besides him, the air in the room awkward and thick. After a few long seconds Castiel hears the door to the bathroom close again. Dean’s angry now, frustration thrumming through his veins. Castiel fucking begged him to be a part of this, and now he won’t even look at him. Brenden’s face is smeared with tears. His mouth is taped shut. His wrists are rubbed raw and bleeding, small drips adding to a puddle on the white tiled floor. His forearms are both sliced vertically, Dean carefully avoiding the veins. 

Dean had taken a break because Brenden passed out. Luckily, he was conscious now. His eyes were wide as he scanned the room, as if help would appear now that he’s rested and ready to fight. “Have you ever taken an anatomy class?” Dean pauses, as if Brenden could actually answer him. He takes the tip of his knife and places it just at the edge of the cut in his left arm. “The human body is fascinating. You see, the pain you felt when I cut you? That’s nothing compared to what will come next. The first round, that was just me getting deep enough to expose your nerves. Now you’re more sensitive.”

Dean digs the knife in, fast and hard. Brenden screams, impressing Dean with how loud he is through the tape. “Woo,” Dean yells, excited. “You’ve got some lungs on you.” That’s the moment Castiel throws up. Two hours and four minutes into the torture, if you feel like being exact. He had opened the door to tell Dean that the neighbors were back. They hadn’t been in their room all night but Castiel could now hear them through the wall. He wanted to make sure Dean knew to be extra careful, but he should have kept his eyes closed. Or just knocked. 

Thinking about it now, he definitely should have just knocked. Dean whips around fast as Castiel makes the gagging noise. He gets out of the way just in time for Castiel’s vomit to miss his boots. 

“What are you doing?” Dean yells, pushing Castiel out of the room. He doesn’t flinch as he steps in the pool of vomit. He’s had a lot worse on his boots. Castiel is holding a hand to his mouth, his fingers shaking. “Why the hell would you come in there?” 

Castiel is shaking his head furiously. His pale fingers are clutching at his lips. His eyes are blinking rapidly, trying to erase what he saw. “I’m sorry.” Brenden is screaming harder now, hope laced in the tone of them. He’s pulling at his restraints harder. Dean wants to yell at him, because if he pulls too hard he’ll bleed out and that’ll ruin Dean’s entire weekend. 

Dean slams the bathroom door shut, trying to put as much of his anger as he can into that one action so he doesn’t take it out on Castiel. “What the fuck were you thinking?” His fingers itch to grab him and shake him. He realizes his knife is still in his hand and he drops it immediately. He’s not willing to risk what he might do. 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel’s voice is shaking and he’s still doing the odd blinking thing. Dean steps towards him, calm enough now to understand he needs to comfort him. Castiel steps back immediately, a tiny whimper escaping him. Dean’s heart breaks. 

“Cas, you shouldn’t have seen that.” Castiel can’t get over the thought of how much pain the guy must be in. How painful it would be to have your nerves practically exposed. He shakes just thinking about it. “I can stop.”

“You’ll stop?” Castiel’s fingers drop to his side, tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “You would stop, for me?” Castiel isn’t even sure if he wants Dean to stop. He’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with him, killer and all. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get rid of him right now if you want. We can spend the weekend doing whatever you want.” Dean hates the thought of that. He hasn’t been able to spend a good amount of time with a victim in months. He’s always been rushed or tired, or too enthusiastic to wait. He was really looking forward to the process of a good old fashioned bleed out. 

“Oh.” Castiel shakes his head, looking at his feet. He feels like a total idiot, thinking Dean would actually quit for him. “Sorry, I thought you meant like stop, STOP. Like altogether.” 

“No.” Dean wipes a hand down his face. “Cas, this is me. This is who I am. I don’t-” Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t want Castiel to go, to leave him. But there isn’t any more sugar coating. No more hoping Castiel doesn’t see him for the monster he is. “Let me show you. Once and for all, let me show you. You have to know what you’re getting into if you stay. I’ll never be able to stop this. You have to accept it.”

“Okay.” Castiel says quickly.

“Really?” Dean’s heart is in his throat. 

“Yeah.” Castiel laughs weakly, shrugging. “I’ll try not to throw up again.”

“Okay.” Dean laughs too, nerves causing his whole body to shake. Castiel bends over, grabbing the knife from the ground and handing it back to Dean. Dean gives him an encouraging smile, taking it from him carefully. He leads him back into the bathroom. It’s a tight space, and having Castiel so close isn’t helping matters. 

For almost a full minute Dean just stands there, not sure what to do. He’s clutching the knife tightly in his right hand, wondering what to do. He was going to cut both arms a little deeper, then bandage them up so he doesn’t lose too much blood. That was the plan before Castiel had walked in. Now he can’t do it. He wants to, his whole body is aching for him to, but it’s like he’s frozen. Castiel grabs his hand, making him jump. Instead of scaring Castiel away though, Castiel’s grip just gets firmer. It’s the hand with the knife, and Castiel slowly guides it towards Brenden. 

Dean snaps out of his trance, taking over his actions. Castiel lets go, his work now done. He sits on the lib of the bathtub, trying his best to stay out of the way. He first looks at the rope bondage, his eyes trailing over the intricate knots. Then he pays attention to the blood, all of the bright red blood. It’s on the floor in puddles, on the chair and the rope and Brenden’s skin. Castiel knows it’s on Dean too but he’s trying not to look at him right now. He watches as Dean works silently, digging into the man’s arm. Brenden screams against the tape, his wide eyes staring at Castiel, silently begging him for help. Castiel looks away, focusing on Dean. 

His eyes are lit up like they were when Castiel let him tie him up. He’s got a slow, lazy smile playing on his lips and his shoulders are relaxed for once. Castiel likes him like this. The real Dean isn’t so bad. If you can push past the blood, torture and dead bodies of course. Dean wipes his hand on his shirt, staining it. It dawns on Castiel how careless this whole thing is. Panic starts welling up in his chest. There’s too much blood, too many fingerprints. The video cameras at the hotel have their faces. There’s too much evidence. How does Dean plan on getting the body out of here? Where does he plan on putting it? His anxiety starts escalating. 

“Dean.” He whispers. Dean’s in the middle of turning his knife inside the wound, rotating it slowly to make sure the pain lasts longer. He stops immediately, his green eyes full of anxiety when he looks at Castiel. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Neither of them acknowledge the cute pet name. Dean’s too worried he’s about to scare Castiel off, and Castiel is seeing him in that damn orange jumpsuit again. 

“We’re going to get caught.” Brenden makes a noise, nodding his head fast. He’s talking fast, the tape muffling any chance of them understanding what he is saying. Most likely trying to plead with them, the usual ‘I won’t tell anyone’ bullshit.

“Shut up!” Dean snaps at Brenden, pulling the knife away from his arm. When Dean looks back at Castiel his face is calm again. “Why are you freaking out Cas? What’s going on?”

“There’s so much blood. And this hotel has cameras. And you’re getting your fingerprints all   
over the place. And his hair and your hair. There’s DNA everywhere. And how do you plan on getting his body out? Where do you plan on dumping him? What if-”

“Cas.” Dean says quietly, his hand resting on Castiel’s arm. Castiel stares at it, trying to get a grip on the fact that someone else’s blood is on his skin right now. Someone getting murdered. “I’ve been doing this for eleven years, officially. I promise, I’m not being stupid here. We’re going to be okay.”

“But Dean, there’s so much-”

“Calm down baby.” Brenden starts saying something again. “Shut up!” Dean yells again, his right hand coming down hard to slap his open wound. Brenden cries out in pain but stops talking. 

“We’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes. I promise. I have a plan. Everything is going to be okay Cas.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” 

“You don’t have a reason to be scared. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” Brenden gets maybe two syllables in before they both turn to him and yell shut up in unison. Castiel gives Dean a small smile. He continues what he was doing before. Castiel watches for a while, completely entranced. The blood against the knife is mesmerizing. Watching Dean gives him butterflies. Takes his damn breath away. A few minutes into the torture, right as Dean is finishing up and about to start bandaging, Castiel actually realizes Dean called him baby. Twice. He can’t help the smile on his face when he thinks about it. Dean catches him smiling and gives him one back. “You want to help me bandage?” 

“Sure.” He isn’t sure if he actually wants to touch Brenden, but he wants to do this with Dean. He wants to be everything for him. Dean hands him a pack of white, fluffy gauze. Castiel starts bandaging quickly without any instructions. Dean watches him for a few seconds before moving on to his own bandage. He can’t help but smile as the boy he’s pretty sure he’s in love with works alongside him. Having Castiel in here scared him at first, but the experience is actually so much better with Castiel by his side. The rush is like nothing he’s every felt before. 

When he’s all patched up Dean stands up, cracking his neck. He goes to the sink and washes his hands carefully, then moves aside so Castiel can do the same. Once they’re clean Dean leads Castiel out of the room, turning the light off. “Wait, you’re just gonna leave him?” 

“We need to get some sleep Cas.” 

“But he’s.” 

“It’s torture. It’s leading up to murder. I really don’t care if he’s comfortable.” Castiel bites his bottom lip, nodding. Dean kneels down and unties his boots, kicking them off. He strips his blood stained shirt off, then his jeans. He stands in front of Castiel in nothing but his boxers. Castiel stares for a moment, his eyes wide. Then he starts doing the same. Dean shifts awkwardly, looking over at the bed.

“They didn’t have any with two beds left.” Dean says quietly, pulling the covers back on the bed. He doesn’t get in though, a part of him afraid Castiel will ask to sleep on the floor. He doesn’t ask. Instead he crawls in before Dean can have the chance, settling comfortably in the soft gray blue sheets. He can tell by the feel of them that the hotel really must have been expensive. They feel like the ones back home, at his parents’ estate. 

“You called me baby.” Castiel says quietly. He’s still biting his bottom lip and it gives Dean a   
hard on. He crawls into bed quickly, covering himself with the comforter so Castiel won’t see. 

“I did.” Dean coughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Castiel asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Castiel bursts out laughing. Once he starts he can’t stop. The absurdity of the past few weeks finally sinks in, and his stomach starts hurting from how hard he’s laughing. Dean stares at him like he’s crazy, smiling despite his confusion. Eventually Castiel calms down, catching his breath. He wipes the tears from his eyes, still smiling. “I just watched you torture a guy you’re planning to kill and you think calling me baby made me uncomfortable?”

“I guess that’s kind of stupid, hey?” 

“I love you.” Castiel says, still laughing. The minute he says it he sits up straight. Dean freezes, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“You what?” Dean says, his voice barely a whisper. 

“I.” Castiel shrugs, looking anywhere but at Dean. He decides to rip it off like a Band-Aid. “I guess I love you.”

“Shit.” Dean says quietly, running a hand down his face. “I’m wrong. I’m bad, Cas. I could hurt you. I could-”

“I love you.” Castiel says again.

“I’m a murderer.” Dean whispers, his green eyes searching Castiel’s blue ones. Castiel reaches over, taking Dean’s hand in his. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m-” 

“Shut up Dean.” Castiel says quietly. He’s smiling, ear to ear. He’s never loved anyone before, but he knows this is it. The way he shakes when Dean is around him. The way he wants to smile just thinking about Dean. “I haven’t wanted to kill myself in over a week. I smile around you. I actually fucking laugh around you. I love you Dean.”

“I love you too.” Dean nods quickly, his smile growing wide. “God dammit Cas, you stupid, stupid boy.” He grabs his face with both hands and slams their lips together, taking Castiel’s breath away for the second time that day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have all been so amazing to me, and I want to thank you for that!! This fic is getting pretty long and I know I'm toying with some emotions, it means the world to me that you are sticking with me!! Here is a fluffy/smutty chapter for all of you. If you're not into the whole smut thing I urge you to at least read the first half (before the page break) and the last 6 paragraphs of the second half. There's so many feels and cuteness. Gaaaah, sorry I'm fan girling over my own damn story.. is that even allowed? oh well...
> 
> Enjoy (:

The next town they stop in is a small town on the coast. Castiel asked if they could see the ocean one more time before heading west, and Dean couldn’t say no. They rent out a little cabin on a rustic beach area. It’s a little one bedroom with no heat, but they love every minute of it. Castiel walks around the whole time in Dean’s flannels and boxers. They read old, dusty books from the cabin’s lone bookshelf and watch movies on the old VCR. Castiel makes Dean watch Lion King three times throughout the trip. Dean claims he hates it, but by viewing number three he’s singing along to the songs. 

On the second night, the temperature is particularly low and they end up in bed before the sun even sets. Even under the warm blankets they’re both still shivering. “Come here.” Dean mumbles, dragging Castiel towards him. He’s so damn light, Dean decides on the spot that starting tomorrow he’ll make sure he eats three meals a day. He’s also been trying to figure out how to get him his pills without getting caught. The other night his face was on the news, his kidnapping getting national attention thanks to his rich, entitled parents. He’s been thinking about writing them lately, telling them he’s safe and they can send the meds if they want. It’s risky though. I mean ransom money is one thing, but monthly pills is a lot trickier. 

He thought about asking Castiel to tell them he’s safe, that he went willingly. It’d take the heat off, but at the same time it’d be forcing him to look back, and he’s been so much happier looking forward. Castiel wiggles a little in his arms, getting him excited. His mind snaps back to the sexy kid in his bed. He shifts so he’s straddling him, loving the way Castiel’s cheeks flush when he settles on top of him. 

“Are you gonna warm me up, Dean?” Castiel asks quietly. Dean knows he’s not trying to sound sexy, and the fact that it just comes naturally adds to the turn on. 

“Yeah, baby, I am.”

“How?” Castiel wiggles his hips and Dean almost laughs at how adorable he is. 

“I’ve got a few ideas.” He puts his hands on either side of his head, lowering his lips to his neck. He feels Castiel’s whole body shudder, and for the first time he realizes it’s a very real possibility that he’s a virgin. The realization takes his breath away. He doesn’t even notice he stopped kissing him until Castiel asks what’s wrong. He blurts without thinking. “Have you done this before?”

“Shack up with a serial killer?” Castiel laughs, giving Dean a playful smile. “Can’t say I have.”

“Oh hush. I mean sex.” Dean gulps, searching Castiel’s face. “Are you a virgin?” Castiel stares at him for a second. For longer than a second actually. He counts in his head. It takes until 7 before Dean’s face unravels. “Fuck.” Dean rolls off him, sitting next to him on the bed.

“It’s okay.” Castiel says quietly, sitting up. Dean has his face in his hands.

“Fuck, Cas. Shit. I’m sorry. That was so stupid.” Dean hates himself. In this moment, he absolutely hates himself. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“No. It’s fine.” Castiel says awkwardly. He pulls the ends of the flannel over his hands, clutching the fabric tightly in his palm. “I was, yes. Actually, I still consider myself one. They don’t get to count.” 

“Cas, I’m so sorry. I’m a dipshit.”

“No, you’re not. I’m glad it wasn’t on your mind. I don’t want that to be the thing you think about when you look at me, when you kiss me.” Dean looks at him for a moment. Then they start kissing again. He’s not sure if he’s even the one who started it, or if Castiel came to him. It doesn’t really matter. Before he knows it, Dean’s straddling him again. He’s got both his hands pinned above his head, grinding their dicks together through their boxers. “Dean.” Cas says, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. Dean runs his cold nose along his neck, his breath warming the skin. 

Their lips lock together again, their movements rushed and heated. “Dean.” Cas says again, pulling his wrists slightly, trying to break free. He isn’t panicked yet, but he can feel it coming. The elephant is lightly tapping at his chest. “Dean.” He says again. Now that he has acknowledged the elephant, the panic is worse. He starts fighting, his legs kicking and his hips raising to buck Dean off him. 

Dean holds his wrists tighter, pressing his entire body on top of him. “Calm down.” Castiel fights harder, realizing Dean isn’t going to let him go. He starts pleading but Dean kisses him again, taking the words away from him. “It’s me Cas. It’s me. I would never hurt you. I’ve got you.”

“My wrists.” Castiel says, out of breath. He’s got tears in the corners of his eyes. “Please. Just let go of my wrists.”

“No.” Dean says defiantly. It’s the hardest thing he’s done in maybe forever, but he wants Castiel to feel better. He doesn’t want that night to haunt him, and if desensitizing is the way to go then so be it. 

“Please.” His voice is shaking. In fact, his whole body is shaking. “Please Dean. Please.”

“Breathe Cas. You’re stronger than this. You’re okay.” Dean kisses him again, a tiny smile on his lips. “You let me tie you up, remember?”

Castiel nods, taking in two deep breaths. Remembering that moment grounds him a little, and he realizes this is Dean. Dean would never let anything happen to him. His body relaxes, turning to putty in Dean’s hands. Dean’s smile grows wider. He laughs lightly, proud of himself. It sounded stupid at the time, but now that it worked he’s filled with pride. Castiel lifts his head off the bed, bringing his lips to Dean’s. They start kissing again. “Dean.” Castiel whispers against him. Dean pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against Castiel’s.

“What’s up sweetheart?” 

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

“Hmm,” Dean smiles, kissing him again. He gives him three light kisses, then one longer one, before pulling away gently. “I think that can be arranged.” 

 

 

  
An hour and a half later, they’re still tangled together. The sheets and blankets are kicked off the bed, their bodies creating enough heat without them. Lube is dripping down the Castiel’s ass, along with Dean’s come. His wrists are bound to the headboard with one of Dean’s softer ropes. Dean’s holding both his legs above his head, putting his hole on display so Dean can watch himself move in and out. Castiel’s stomach is covered in come from the two orgasms he’s had so far. He’s already growing hard again without Dean’s hands on him. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Dean whispers, shaking his head. He’s in awe of this boy beneath him. Castiel gives him a lazy, fucked out smile. His eyes are drooping shut. Out of habit Dean slaps the inside of his thigh. “Wake up.” He yells. He knows he’s not a victim, but he can’t help it. Castiel smiles as his eyes watch the skin turn pink. He’s learned a lot about this boy in the last 90 minutes, one being that he’s quite kinky. 

“Tired.” Castiel slurs, his eyes now fully open. With each blink they stay closed a little longer than the last. 

“I know baby. One more round.” Dean rotates his hips, making sure the head of his dick drags against Castiel’s prostate. He jumps, a tiny gasp escaping him. His eyes snap right open as his jaw goes slack. He moves his hips slightly, his body begging Dean to go harder. Dean chuckles seductively, the sound low in his throat. “Not so tired anymore?” 

“No sir.” Castiel says quietly, shaking his head back and forth. Dean didn’t think his dick could get any harder, but at that it does. He’s never been into the whole dominant thing in the bedroom, as strange as that is. Sure, he loves bondage and rough sex but until this moment he’s never actually considered more. Now he decides he fucking loves it. He practically growls. “Mmm, you liked that?” Castiel asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” Dean pulls out slowly, then slams himself back into him. He punches the breath out of him for a second. He lets him catch his breath before doing it again. And again. Castiel is practically falling apart for him. He spreads his legs wider for Dean, making it easier for him. Dean speeds up his thrusts, his smile wide. “Good boy.”   
Castiel lets out a strangled noise when Dean starts pounding into him. Dean shifts a little, angling so he slams against his prostate every time. Much to his enjoyment, Castiel screams. He fucking screams and it’s the sexiest thing in Dean’s whole world. Castiel’s dick is purple, begging to be touched. The first two times Dean had to pump him fast and hard, but this time he thinks he might be able to get him without having to touch him at all. “Can you come for me, Cas? Can you come from my dick in your ass?” 

“Mhm.” Castiel moans, nodding his head furiously. Dean smacks his skin hard with the palm of his hand. Castiel jumps, a tiny shriek escaping his lips. 

“Come for me. Be a good boy and come for me baby.” With two more thrusts Castiel is coming all over himself, covering his chest, stomach, and chin with come. His legs are so tired they start falling, Dean having to hold his ankles tightly to keep them from collapsing on the bed. 

“Yes sir. Yes sir. Yes sir.” Castiel keeps whispering, his eyes closed. His whole body is shaking, in shock from the intensity of a prostate only orgasm. Dean stares down at the boy beneath him, completely amazed that he could ever be so lucky. He thrusts one more time, hard, before collapsing on top of him. He fills Castiel’s hole, letting his come overflow down onto his ass again. He buries his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and Dean’s peppermint soap. He groans. He always bitches about Castiel using his soap, but in this moment it’s beautiful. Everything about this boy is beautiful. 

“I love you.” He says quietly, his voice sending vibrations against Castiel’s sensitive skin. Castiel shivers, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“I love you too.” Castiel whispers. Dean leans back slightly, taking in Castiel’s bright blue eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“Say it again?” Dean asks quietly. He’s embarrassed to ask, but if feels so damn good to hear it.

Castiel doesn’t laugh at him though. His face is deadly serious as he repeats himself. “I love you.” He lets the corner of his mouth perk up in a lazy half smile. “I love you Dean Winchester.”

Dean basks in the feeling that gives him for a few seconds, then pulls out slowly, earning a small gasp from Castiel. 

“You okay?” His eyebrows are scrunched in concern. Castiel nods slowly. 

“Just sensitive.” He slurs, his eyelids fluttering. 

“You did so well for me.” Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s mess of hair. Castiel’s smile grows wider. He nods his head slightly, his blue eyes shining bright. Dean reaches up, undoing the knots above his wrists. Castiel sighs when he’s finally free, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. He hugs him tightly, practically suffocating him with his chest. Dean let’s out another low chuckle. 

“Can we do that again?” Castiel says around a yawn. Dean laughs again. 

“Yes. Not right now though. Right now you need to sleep.”

“Yes sir.” He smiles tiredly. Dean props himself up on an elbow, brushing Castiel’s unruly hair off his forehead. 

“We need to clean up first.” Dean says, sadness laced in his voice. He hates the idea of cleaning him up. The sight of Castiel covered in both of their come is sexy as hell. It’s sexier than seeing blood on a victim, which is saying a hell of a lot. 

“Do we have to?” Castiel groans, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout. Dean bites it, tugging gently. 

“Yes. You’re all wet and in a few minutes your body temp is going to drop back to normal and you’ll be freezing.” Dean stands up, rolling his neck to loosen up the kinks. He’s going to be sore tomorrow, but the fact that Castiel will be sore too makes it so beyond worth it. “Get up sweetheart.” 

Castiel tries to sit up but falls back down, a helpless look on his face. He gives Dean puppy dog eyes, begging him to let him just go to sleep. Dean gives him a smile and picks him up, thinking again about how light he is. He carries him to the small bathroom, setting him down in the empty bathtub. He pushes down the plug and starts the warm water, smiling as Castiel curls up and rests his head against the side. He looks up at Dean, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. 

“Aren’t you coming in?” He whispers, his voice laced with exhaustion. Dean smiles at him, climbing inside. He pulls Castiel into his lap, cradling him in his arms. Castiel buries his face in his chest, wrapping his small arms around his waist. He lightly squeezes, earning another smile from Dean. Dean’s pretty damn sure his face is going to start hurting from all the smiling he’s been doing the last few weeks. By the time the water is done running, Castiel is fast asleep. Dean settles in, letting the warm water slosh over them, washing away their filth. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart. You’re safe.” Dean whispers, stroking his back softly. Dean leans his cheek against Castiel’s hair, breathing in the scent of him again. He closes his eyes and smiles. “Mine.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a pretty long one for you guys! Prepare for feels, fighting, and smut.   
> Enjoy (;

“I think you’re ready.” Dean says suddenly, half way through slicing a girl’s thigh open. He licks his lips, watching the blood run smoothly down her skin. This is the fourth time Castiel has watched him do this. The fourth time he’s sat on the edge of a bathtub, his eyes wide and his breath quick. Dean loves the way he watches him, like he’s the most amazing thing in the world. 

“For what?” Castiel asks quietly, cocking his head to the side. Dean hands him the knife in his hand, the blood smearing onto Castiel’s pale fingers. His eyes grow wider and his jaw falls slightly open. “No, I’m not.”

“You’ve been watching me for weeks now. You’re ready.” Castiel shakes his head fast, but he doesn’t drop the knife, which lets Dean know he wants this. The past two kills Castiel has practically jumped his bones afterward, the scene making him crazy horny. Not that Dean is complaining, because he fucking loves being inside him. But he can tell Castiel is falling in love with Dean’s dark little hobby, and as much as that’s fucked up it’s also sexy as hell. 

“I don’t want to.” Castiel whispers, but his actions say otherwise. He’s already bringing the knife to the girl’s other thigh, lightly dragging the tip across her skin. It’s enough to leave a trail of white, but not enough to draw blood. Dean’s dick twitches. He’s fucking playing with her. He sits back on his heels, watching the scene before him. “I’m sorry.” Castiel whispers, his voice broken. He drags the knife along the same line again, this time pressing hard. The girl screws her eyes shut, gritting her teeth around the gag in her   
mouth. Dean hasn’t been able to get her to scream yet, and it’d be amazing if Castiel could get her to. 

Castiel goes over the same cut three times, digging deeper with each new stroke. The girl’s whole body is shaking, fat tears running down her cheeks. Castiel runs his fingers through the blood, then looks at Dean. His eyes are heavy and his smile loose. He looks strung out, like he does when Dean’s been using him for hours. “Hey baby.” Dean says, acknowledging the fact that he’s looking at him. Castiel’s smile twitches. He looks at the girl again, then back at Dean. When his eyes return to Dean that second time, Dean panics. There’s fear there, accompanied by a pool of tears. He drops the knife fast, shaking his head violently. 

“No!” Castiel yells, his lips trembling. He backs himself up so fast he slams his back into the door. He’s still shaking his head. 

“Fuck.” Dean mumbles, standing up and coming towards him slowly. “It’s okay, Cas. I’m sorry. It’s okay.”

“No.” Castiel is crying hard now, his whole body shaking with his sobs. He clutches his mouth with shaking fingers. “I’m so sorry.” For a second Dean thinks he’s apologizing to him, but then he realizes he’s looking at the girl. The girl is staring back with wide eyes. Dean’s not even sure which one of them looks more terrified. 

“Go in the other room Cas.” Castiel stays where he is, frozen in shock. “Castiel, go in the fucking bedroom!” He yells, snapping him out of his trance. Castiel turns and opens the door, leaving the room quickly. Dean slams it shut and leans his forehead up against the door for a second, letting the guilt wash over himself. He picks up the knife from the floor and turns back to the girl. “I’m going to kill you now.” He says in a menacing voice, before slicing her throat. He doesn’t even relish in the blood or the look on her face. He throws the knife in the sink and leaves the bathroom quickly. 

Castiel is standing in the middle of the room, still shaking. He’s holding his hands out in front of him, staring at them like they’re not his own. “Cas?” Dean whispers. Castiel jumps, looking up at Dean. 

“I hurt her.” He whispers. 

“Cas.” Dean isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t want to come towards him and scare him, but just standing there inches away is driving him insane. 

“My hands.” They’re shaking, but Dean’s pretty sure that’s not what he’s referring to. They’re slick with bright red blood.

“Let’s wash them.” Dean inches towards him, his hands out in front of him. “We can get them clean again.”

“I liked it.” Castiel whispers, staring at Dean with wide, petrified eyes. Dean’s heart sinks into his gut. 

“Oh, baby.” He steps forward, catching Castiel as he crumbles to the ground. His sobs grow harder, his whole body shuddering in Dean’s arms. 

“I hurt her and I liked it.” Castiel cries, burying his face in Dean’s bloodstained shirt. He’s leaving handprints where he’s clutching the fabric, but neither of them care. 

“What can I do?” Dean feels lost. He’s looking around the room in desperation. “Tell me what you need.”

“I wanna go home.” He’s still crying, his voice muffled by Dean’s shirt. Every inch of Dean freezes and his heartbeat speeds up. 

“No.” Dean says before he can even think. Castiel starts crying harder.

“Please Dean. I wanna go home.”

“No.” Castiel pulls away from him harshly. Dean tries to grab at him but he scurries away across the floor. 

“Get away from me!” He screams, every inch of him shaking. Dean panics. He’s about to lose the only good thing to ever happen to him. 

“Cas, please baby. Please just calm down.” Dean runs a hand down his face. He gets up slowly, Castiel doing the same. They’re standing only inches apart but they might as well be a mile away from each other. “You don’t have to do it again baby. You never even have to watch me. I’ll take them away from you. It’ll be like I don’t even do it anymore.”

“You don’t get it! I liked that. I wanted to keep going. I’m fucked up!” Cas screams, his arms wound tightly around his waist like he’s going to be sick. 

“I love you. Don’t leave, Cas. Don’t leave me baby.”

“What did you do?” Castiel yells, pointing a bloody finger at Dean. “What did you do to me?”

“Cas, just calm down. Please.” 

“I’m just as bad as them.” The room is eerily silent. Dean doesn’t have to ask who Castiel is talking about. The amount of venom in his words make it clear. All the fight and energy comes out of Castiel in that moment. He deflates, barely keeping himself on two feet. “I wanna go home.” He whispers, looking anywhere but at Dean. 

“No.” Castiel’s eyes shoot up, staring at Dean with fear. Dean repeats himself. “No.” They stare at each other for another minute, then Castiel bolts. He sprints towards the door, but Dean catches him. He wraps his right arm around the boy’s waist, pulling him as hard as he can. Castiel starts screaming, kicking his legs and clawing at Dean’s skin. Dean’s heart is racing. “Stop it.”

“I wanna go home.” Castiel is chanting, crying hard. “I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I wanna go home.”

“Shut up Cas. You’re not going anywhere.” Dean hate this. He hates every minute of it. He’s trying not to hurt him. He’s trying to be gentle as he drags him toward the bed. Bending down, he digs in his duffel bag and pulls out his rope. He drags Castiel onto the bed, straddling him. Castiel’s face is tear free, his sobs dry now. Dean’s pretty sure this is wrong, pretty sure this makes him just as much of a monster as the guys from Castiel’s college. It makes him sick. 

He starts winding the rope around Castiel’s wrists, knotting them just a little bit too tightly. He secures the rope to the headboard of the hotel bed, giving Castiel barely any slack. When Dean finishes, he realizes Castiel stopped fighting him. He’s staring up at him, bright blue eyes drowning in a puddle of tears. He’s breathing hard and fast, but his body isn’t shaking anymore. Dean softly brushes his tears with the pad of his thumb. “You can’t leave me.” Dean says quietly, his voice shaking.

“I hurt her, and I liked it.” Castiel repeats. 

“I know. I know baby. It’s scary.” Dean knows how it feels. He was fourteen when he fell in love with killing, but it was terrifying. Realizing you’re a monster, that’s a scary thing. 

“I love you.” Castiel whispers, his eyes screwed shut. Dean smiles weakly.

“That’s scary too, isn’t it?” Dean asks softly. Castiel’s eyes flutter open as he nods. “Don’t you ever try and leave me again.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You should be.” Dean gives him the slightest smile. “Do you want me to untie you?” Dean knows that fight was a lot for him. As much as he’d love to take out his fear and anger on him with sex right now, he knows Castiel might need to be handled gently at the moment. 

“Make love to me.” Castiel says, biting his bottom lip gently. His nose is scrunched, the way it does when he’s trying hard to be sexy. Dean giggles, kissing him with a hunger he hasn’t felt in days. 

“I don’t know if I can be gentle right now baby. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I don’t care.” Castiel pulls on the restraints. “Need you.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t give me permission to lose control.”

“Go crazy Dean.” Something flashes across his face, his eyes shining with mischief. “Sir.” 

Dean practically growls. He yanks down Castiel’s pants and boxers before doing the same to himself. He spits in his hand and pumps himself a few times. “You ever done safe words?”

“No.” Castiel whispers, his blue eyes open and innocent. 

“If something makes you nervous, say yellow. If you want everything to stop immediately, say red.”

“I trust you Dean.” 

“Trust or not baby, you can’t control if something hurts too much or makes the elephant come back.” He lightly kisses him on the forehead. “Just be honest with me Cas.”

“Yes sir.” Dean shoves two fingers into Castiel’s mouth, swirling them against his tongue. Castiel moans around them, increasing the pressure as he sucks. He yanks them out of his mouth fast, spreading Castiel’s legs wide so he can have easy access to his ass. He slowly drags his soaking wet fingers around his rim, loving the way Castiel’s breath hitches. As gently as he can in his state of mind, he pushes two fingers inside of him. Little whimpers escape Castiel as he works him open. 

Dean adds another finger a little too soon, causing Castiel to jump. He adjusts quickly though, going back to whimpering in pleasure. Not being able to hold himself back anymore, Dean makes the judgment call that he’s prepped him enough. With another spit slick pump of his hand, he pushes deep inside Castiel. Grabbing the back of Castiel’s knees, he pushes his legs farther back and wider apart. His dick slides in further with the new angle. 

Watching Castiel fall apart beneath him is driving him nuts. He can’t stop thinking about the fact that a few minutes ago, he actually almost lost him. How fucking shitty would that have been? Dean’s anger sets fire to the pit of his stomach. His thrusts grow more aggressive as he grits his teeth. His right hand comes down on Castiel’s ass cheek, hard and fast. Castiel screams but doesn’t safe word, so Dean does it again. And again. And again. He’s lost count by the time he stops. 

“Seventeen.” Castiel hisses, breathing harshly. His eyes are drooped. Dean rubs the palm of his hand gently against the bright pink area, soothing it. 

“What?”

“Seventeen sir.” It dawns on Dean that even though he lost count, Castiel hadn’t. He didn’t even have to ask him to pay attention, he just did it. 

“You’re so good for me baby.” Dean shakes his head in wonder. He leans down, kissing him hard. Dean keeps rubbing the raw skin, loving the way it makes Castiel   
squirm. “Can you do three more?” 

“M’ tired.” Castiel slurs, his eyes blinking slowly. 

“What’s your safe word?”

“Yellow s’ slow. Red s’ stop.” Dean smiles at the obvious exhaustion. 

“Do you want to use them?” He asks gently. Castiel shakes his head slowly. “Alright, three more baby. Can you count for me?”

“Yes sir.” Dean settles his hips, making sure Castiel’s legs are in a comfortable position. He lifts his hand slowly, then brings it down fast and hard against the already bright   
red skin. Castiel lets out a tiny scream, his eyes screwed shut. Dean is breathing hard. 

“Count!” He yells. Castiel jumps at the order.

“One!” Dean moves in and out a few times, wanting to drag out the end of Castiel’s punishment. His eyes are still shut and his jaw is slack. Dean smiles at the sight of him. 

“You’re a kinky boy.” Dean whispers, his voice husky and low. His words earn him a moan from the boy wiggling his hips below him. He lifts his hand high, glad Castiel still has his   
blue eyes closed. When his hand comes down hard Castiel is surprised, his eyes snapping open in shock. 

“Two.” He says through gritted teeth. He’s staring up at Dean in pure wonder, like the man on top of him is the absolute greatest thing in the world. The way he looks at him gives Dean a high. He brings the hand he’s been using to slap his ass to his cheek, cupping his face gently. 

“You are fucking gorgeous.” Dean leans down, kissing him. Castiel starts kissing him back, putting every emotion he’s felt in the past hour into it. While he’s distracted, Dean spanks him for the final time. The power of it actually jars him, his hand stinging like crazy. 

“Ahh!” Castiel screams. He puffs his cheeks and lets the air out slowly. Dean pauses for a few seconds, waiting for Castiel to snap out of it. “Three.” Castiel whispers. 

“Good boy.” Dean speeds up his thrusts, making sure to slam into Castiel’s prostate every time. Castiel lays there, his eyes closed. He looks perfect and peaceful and it makes Dean   
fuck him harder. Despite his exhaustion, Castiel finally lets out a long moan. 

“Dean.” Dean picks up his hand and spanks him again. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Sir.” Castiel says with a gasp, his eyes finally open wide again. “M’ sorry sir.” Dean starts circling his hips, causing Castiel to throw his head back in pleasure. “Sir?” 

“What’s up?” Dean whispers, feeling himself getting closer. 

“May I come sir?” Those words push Dean right over the end, his come filling Castiel’s spread open hole. For a virgin, Castiel’s been a damn good submissive. 

“Yeah baby. Come for me.” Dean wraps his hand around Castiel, pumping once before he bursts. Dean watches his boy fall apart beneath him, covering his chest with his own come.   
Just from the sight alone, Dean’s hard again. He shifts a little, laying his body on top of him. He looks at Castiel’s wrists, rubbed raw. “One more round baby. Just one more.” 

Castiel nods tiredly, his eyes closed. He’s got his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, trying to keep quiet. Dean continues moving, feeling his orgasm build in the pit of his stomach. “Open your mouth.” Dean orders. Castiel’s eyes open along with his mouth. Dean grabs his chin, pulling gently so his mouth is wider. Three thrusts later, Dean’s pulling out and shooting his load in and around Castiel’s mouth. Castiel swallows, then licks his lips. “Good boy. Such a good boy for me.” Dean leans down and kisses him, not caring that he can taste himself. 

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I liked it.” Dean’s smile fades slowly. Castiel’s eyes are shut again, and he looks right on the edge of sleep. He slurs. “I hurt her, ‘n I liked it.” 

“I know.” Dean doesn’t even notice he’s crying until the tears start tickling the skin of his cheeks. He wipes a hand down his face, rolling off Castiel in the process. He’s fast asleep already, trusting Dean despite the fact that he’s restrained. Dean never thought he’d be able to earn the love of someone so amazing. He hates himself for it. Absolutely hates himself.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person, who is going through midterms at the moment, and made you poor lovely souls go five days without an update... I understand if you all hate me.
> 
> For my apology, here is some dirty smut. Enjoy (;

They spend the next day in bed, recovering. They don’t talk about what happened the night before, neither of them wanting to acknowledge it. Instead they curl up and watch Christmas movies, filling up on food from the vending machines. Neither of them put clothes on, deciding that the best plan of action is to just roll around naked all day long. Castiel isn’t sure where the body went, or at what point Dean cleaned the bathroom. He just knows that the room looks like it did when they arrived. 

There’s a few times throughout the day where Dean wants to ask him if he meant it. He wants to grab Castiel, a hand on each cheek, and yell at him for wanting to leave. But he’s too afraid. Dean isn’t used to being loved or wanted, and the last thing he needs is to hear him say that everything said yesterday was true. That he’d rather go back to a school filled with demons than spend another day with Dean. 

Every time Dean’s thoughts start going this way, he grabs Castiel and kisses him. He takes all of his frustrations out on Castiel’s body. They’ve had sex three different times already, and it’s not even noon. Castiel isn’t an idiot though. He knows what Dean is doing. Dean doesn’t talk about feelings, he acts. So when he spanks him a little too hard, or ties the ropes a bit too tight, Castiel takes it. Dean would never hurt him, not in a way he doesn’t like. Dean loves him, he’s just scared. They both are.

By the time the movie ELF is done, they’re on round four. Dean has Castiel on his stomach, each wrist tied to the corresponding bed post on the end of the bed. He has his chin resting on a pillow, so he’s comfortable while watching the movies. As Castiel watches the credits roll with heavy eye lids, Dean spreads his ass cheeks gently. He could watch himself slowly move inside Castiel for hours. Days probably. 

A commercial comes on, announcing the start of the Santa Clause movies. Castiel squeals with excitement. He already told Dean earlier that these are his favorite. Dean can’t wait to watch him giggle at Tim Allen. Just as the movie begins Dean pulls out, gently stroking Castiel’s soft hair. Quickly, before Castiel can brace himself, he yanks the boys head back and slams back inside. Castiel lets out a mixture of a moan and a scream, his eyes wide. 

“Dean!” He begs, moving his hips slightly. He hasn’t gotten to come yet, a cock ring secured on his dick since round one this morning. Dean lets out a little laugh, deep in his throat. Bringing his hand down hard, he spanks Castiel for rubbing against the sheets. He told the boy no stimulation, not until Dean wants him to. 

“Stay still.” He says through gritted teeth, his grip tightening on Castiel’s hair as he pounds inside him. Castiel’s eyes are screwed shut now, not caring about the movie anymore. Dean loves this. Loves taking him apart. Today was the first day they’ve played with toys. Castiel didn’t even know Dean owned any. Dean decided two orgasms ago that they need to use them more often. Way more often. And all day today too, for sure.

Dean feels himself getting close, his thrusts getting jerky. Castiel starts pleading again, his voice hoarse from all the noises he’s been making today. “Please, Dean. Hurts. It hurts.” Dean knows it hurts, but it feels good too. He’s spent time with a ring on himself before. It’s the most agonizing pleasure he’s ever experienced. And the longer you wait, the stronger the orgasm is in the end. 

“I know baby.” Dean whispers, his eyes fluttering shut. He shoots his load inside the boy, gripping his hair as he rides him through the orgasm. When he’s done he pulls out, walking over to the nightstand. Each time, in between sessions, he gives Castiel the choice. Vibrator, or plug. The last three times, he’s chosen plug. Dean can see the hope in his eyes though. He’s so strung out, he thinks he’ll have a chance if he chooses the vibrator. Sure enough, when Dean asks, he begs for the big purple toy. 

Dean loves how needy his boy looks, humping the mattress hopefully. He could yell at him for moving, but honestly the desperation is intoxicating. “You want this, baby?” Dean asks, his eyes lighting with mischief. It won’t be that easy. If Castiel wants to get off, which Dean is pretty sure he won’t any way, he’s going to have to beg. 

“Please.” Castiel keeps grinding against the mattress, his breathing erratic. “Please, Sir. Please.” If Dean’s cock wasn’t so wiped out, he would be hard at the sound of Castiel begging him. Even with how exhausted he is, Castiel earns a slight twitch. 

“Tell me exactly what you want, you little slut.”

“I want the vibrator Sir.”

“Exactly Cas. Or you’re just getting the plug.”

Castiel groans. His cheeks are flushed bright red, half from arousal and half from embarrassment. “I want the vibrator in my ass Sir. I want you to put it in my needy little hole.” Dean bites the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his composure. 

“Good boy.” He whispers seductively, walking over to Castiel slowly. He doesn’t need any lubrication, his come still wet and leaking from his hole. Castiel gets up on his knees without being asked, sticking his ass in the air. His face is awkwardly pressed into the mattress, his bright red dick leaking as it hangs in the air. 

Dean teases him with it, running it slowly around his rim. It’s not turned on yet, but just the slight feeling of it makes Castiel shiver. When Dean waits a few seconds, Castiel doesn’t say anything. He stays completely still, not moving or asking any questions. Dean loves testing his obedience. Finally, as a reward, Dean slides it in quickly. Castiel moans but remains in the same position. Dean tells him he’s a good boy, twisting the toy a little to find his prostate. When Castiel makes a sound like the breath was punched out of him, Dean knows he found it. 

Dean takes a few steps back, assessing his handy work. “I’m going to take a shower. You’re such a dirty boy. I need to clean myself.” Dean doesn’t actually care about all the sweat and come on him. He just wants Castiel to think he has a little privacy. The minute Dean closes the door he hears the sheets ruffle a little, Castiel no doubt trying to rub himself off. Dean smiles, reaching over and turning the water on. He waits for it to get warm, holding the little remote to the vibrator in his hand. Castiel didn’t ask why it wasn’t on, and he’s pretty sure he didn’t know Dean brought the remote in here. 

Dean’s hoping he thinks he has to wait until the shower is over, earning it. He hopes to surprise him, clicking the remote’s power button and sliding the switch to one. He hears the gasp from the other room, smiling. He sets the remote down on the closed toilet seat, climbing into the shower. Once he has shampoo in his hair, he leans out and turns it up. After he’s done lathering himself with soap, he does it again. By the time he’s standing under the water, fully hard again, Castiel is at the highest level. He gets out quickly, drying himself off with a towel. When he emerges from the bathroom Castiel is practically sobbing.

Dean wraps the towel around his waist, slowly making his way over to the bed. Bright blue eyes look up at him, desperate and begging. “Please.” He whispers, his voice giving out. Tears streak his cheeks, pooling on the sheets beneath his chin. His whole body is shaking, his wrists rubbed raw. The cock ring is pushed up slightly, now more towards the middle of his dick. He’s been fighting. 

“You didn’t stay still. Why would I reward you for being naughty?” Dean asks quietly, trailing a finger down his arm. Castiel shivers.

“I’m sorry.” Castiel whispers, shaking his head. Dean sighs, dropping his towel to the ground. He positions himself in front of the boy, letting his dick bob just inches from his lips.   
He left the remote in the bathroom, but now he’s wondering if that’s the best idea. This might be a little too intense for Castiel, even if he hasn’t safe worded yet. 

“Get me nice and wet for you.” Castiel groans, thinking Dean is just going to use his ass again. He takes Dean into his mouth, letting him rest heavy on his tongue. He swirls him in his mouth, coating him with spit. When Dean pulls away he cups Castiel’s cheek gently, giving him a warm smile. “I’ve got you baby. It’s okay.”

Dean gets on the bed, adjusting to the exact spot he knows will hit Castiel’s prostate. Every inch of this boy is familiar now. It’s comforting. He slowly pulls the vibrator out, kind of surprised at just how powerful it is. He bought it new for Castiel, and he’s starting to regret not staying with him. He reminds himself the boy didn’t safe word. ‘Cas is okay’ Dean thinks to himself. 

Castiel is so far gone that when Dean slides home he doesn’t even make a noise. He’s slouching, not even properly presenting his ass for Dean. This just makes the man smile though. The fact that Castiel trusted him to push this far means the world to him. To reward the boy, he wraps his right arms around his waist, tugging at his cock. Castiel almost screams at the firm pressure. “Dean. Hurts.”

“I know baby.” Dean leans so his entire chest is touching Castiel’s back. He kisses behind his ear, then the back of his neck. “So good for me. I love you so fucking much babe.” As he finishes his sentence, he slowly pulls the ring off of Castiel. The boy explodes, painting Dean’s hand and the bed with his cum. His whole body shakes violently with the orgasm, his ass clenching hard around Dean. Dean finishes quickly, but he can tell Castiel needs one more. The boy is slamming his ass against Dean, begging him to go faster. Harder. Dean keeps touching him, letting his hips shift slightly to drag against his prostate. 

After a few more minutes Castiel comes again, this time sinking into the bed from exhaustion. Dean rides him until the orgasm dissipates, then pulls out slowly. He lays beside Castiel, bringing his left hand to lightly tickle the boy’s sweaty back. Castiel hums happily, his eyes closed. Dean watches him for a second, cherishing the moment. Once he falls asleep, Dean gets up. He pulls the blanket over Castiel, then gets himself a glass of water. When he returns, he slides in next to the boy. He watches the rest of the first Santa Clause movie, laughing quietly to himself. Just before he falls asleep, he realizes Castiel trusted him enough to fall asleep in restraints. Dean stares at the boy for a moment, mind blown that he could ever be so god damn lucky.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of all, in the next few weeks updates will be a little slow (University is kicking my ass.. I'm sorry!!)  
> Second of all, I know it has been a lot of fluff (and A LOT of smut) but starting now it's going to focus mainly on plot. There will be some triggers and lots of feelings coming up- prepare yourselves.  
> Third of all, I love you all. You guys have been amazing and so welcoming. I've cried a few times at some of the comments, and I am just so happy!  
> With that being said, I'm going to invite you all to check out my tumblr I just started recently: (which accepts prompts, asks, and love (: http://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/  
> 

FOR THIS CHAPTER: The first half is Castiel having a nightmare about his rape. It can be skipped if you are afraid of being triggered, but one important thing needs to be known for later on. A major trigger for him is being called 'pretty eyes' by the men. I am sorry in advanced for the cruelty in this section, but it was necessary- not only for my story, but for people to grasp reality that this is actually happening to people. I refuse to sugarcoat anything: depression, anxiety, rape. None of it is pretty, and none of it deserves to be ignored. I love you all again. Thank you!

_The nightmare is the same as it usually is. Castiel’s wrists and ankles are tied, forcing him to be spread eagle. He’s on his belly on a stained and dusty mattress, inhaling the stench that can only be described as a frat house. He’s screaming, begging for help, for mercy, for anything. It makes the guy with the camera laugh sadistically. Before Castiel can process, a dick is shoved in his mouth. The guy has his fingers tangled in Castiel’s thick, black hair, pulling his head down so he’s choking._

_Tears are soaking the mattress, along with the drool dripping from his open mouth. He waits until his vision is fading into black before he pulls out, letting Castiel take in two s_ _hort breaths before doing it again. Castiel loses count on how many times he does this before finally growing bored. His throat is aching, but the pain is nothing compared to what happens next. The guy raises his wooden fraternity paddle above his head, slamming it down on Castiel’s ass. He does this repeatedly, all over. By the time he’s done, his back, ass, thighs and calves are covered in angry red welts._

_He comes back to stand in front of Castiel again. “Suck my cock good for me, pretty eyes. It’s the only lube you’re gonna get.” Castiel opens wide, trying his best to swirl his tongue and cover it with as much saliva as he can. His teeth accidently graze the guys’ skin and he gets the idea to bite him. But he’s tied and the guy filming is there. It’d make matters worse._

_He moves to straddle Castiel, his callused hands spreading Castiel’s ass cheeks. Castiel jumped, his skin still sensitive from the beating earlier. The guy rubs the tip of his dick around his rim before shoving in. Bile rises up Castiel’s throat, leaking out onto the mattress._

_“He’s a bleeder.” The guy says excitedly, pounding into him harder. The guy behind the camera laughs, moving closer so he can get a better angle._

_“Spread his cheeks. I wanna see it.” The guy fucking him spreads his cheeks wider, not caring that the skin there is bleeding along with his gaping, ripped open hole. The camera spans the length of his body, then rests on a close up of his face._

_“Smile for the camera, pretty eyes.” The guy spits out, thrusting harder. Castiel can hear the squelch of his blood, hating the sound. The guy slaps his hand down hard on his injured skin. “I said smile you piece of shit.”_

Dean jerks awake to the sound of Castiel screaming. It is excruciatingly loud, piercing the silence of the hotel room. His legs are kicking furiously. Dean sits up quickly, moving so he’s straddling him. Castiel panics from the extra weight, bucking and screaming harder. “Stop!” He’s screaming, his whole body shaking. “I don’t want to. Please, I don’t want to!”

“Hey.” Dean says quietly, cupping Castiel’s cheek. The tenderness worsens Castiel’s reaction. Panic swells in Dean’s chest. “Hey! Calm down!” Dean yells, grabbing Castiel’s forearms and holding him down so he can’t hurt himself anymore.

“Please. I’ll do anything. Please.” Dean starts shaking him, trying his best to wake him up.

“You’re dreaming. Hey, it’s just a dream.” Dean’s chest is filling with panic. Castiel looks like he’s in pain, real physical pain, and it’s killing Dean. “Baby, calm down!”

“Help me!” He’s screaming hard, his chest heaving up and down fast. Dean’s not sure what to do. He’s at a complete loss. His right hand smacks against Castiel’s cheek, turning the skin a bright pink. Castiel’s eyes snap open, his lips in a perfect oh like he’s about to scream again.

“Dean?” He asks breathlessly. His cheeks are covered in tears and his whole body is still shaking.

“Yeah, it’s me baby. I’m right here.” Castiel starts gulping air, like he’s suffocating. The elephant is back, in fact there’s more than one elephant. There’s a fucking stampede.

“Please.”

“What do you need?” Dean’s hands go straight to the restraints, starting to untie one wrist. Castiel is still shaking.

“Make it better.”

“How?” Dean asks, hoping his voice doesn’t show how terrified he is right now. His hands quickly get the first knot undone, moving on to the second.

“Make it better!” Castiel screams through a sob. Dean’s mind blanks. All he knows is dominance and violence, which he’s sure is the last thing Castiel needs at the moment. He cups the boy’s face, kissing him gently. When he finally gets the second hand free, Castiel wraps his arms tightly around Dean’s neck. “I need you.” He whispers. Dean shudders, a slow smile on his face.

“I’m right here.” Dean lowers himself so Castiel is as close as possible to him. He’s afraid he’s crushing him, but the way Castiel is hugging him tight makes him feel like he doesn’t care. “You’re safe. You’re mine.”

“Yours.” Castiel mutters, nodding. “All yours.”

“Mine.” Dean nods. His smile grows. “Nothing bad will ever happen to you again sweetheart. I swear. Nothing.” Castiel starts crying again, tears of joy instead of sadness. He hasn’t felt safe since that night last year. It’s been months of pain and fear and darkness. Dean seeing him like that. Seeing Castiel look so happy, so thankful. Seeing Castiel finally realize he’s safe. That’s what makes Dean decide they’re going back. He’s going to that damn University again, and he’s going to tear those frat boys apart. And he’ll make sure Castiel’s ready. He’ll make sure Castiel’s the one to finish it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the end folks. But we aren't there yet! Probably about nine updates left. Hang in there my lovelies!!
> 
> Enjoy (:

“I don’t want to.” 

“Too damn bad.”

“You can’t make me. I don’t want to.” Castiel is standing in the bar, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. They’re staring at a girl in the corner, leaning against the jukebox. She’s flipping through the options slowly, like she’s got all the time in the world. 

“What’s the rules?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen to you no matter what.”

“Exactly.”

“I take it back.” Castiel says stubbornly, his arms still crossed. Dean stares at him for a moment, biting his bottom lip. 

“You what?”

“That was back when you were practically holding me hostage. Back when I was still planning on you killing me. And back when I wasn’t in love with you. Situation is different now, and I say I don’t want to.”

“You’re pissing me off Cas. Do it.”

Castiel turns to Dean angrily. “You piss me off all the time. You’re stubborn and messy and grumpy when you don’t get your way!” Castiel is pointing his finger only inches away from Dean’s face. Dean’s trying his best not to smile at how cute he is. 

“Do it Cas. Do it for me.”

“No.” Dean grabs Castiel’s bicep hard, yanking him through the bar. Castiel is practically stumbling from how fast he’s being dragged. His face is bright red from all the people staring at them, but he doesn’t dare ask Dean to slow down or let him go. When they reach the impala, Dean shoves him into the passenger seat. 

“Don’t fucking leave.”

“Dean.” Dean stares at Castiel, his face hard as stone.

“Don’t fucking leave, Cas.”

“Fine!” Castiel says quietly, staring at his hands clasped tightly in his lap. It’s cold outside, and he can see his breath in the car, but he doesn’t dare go back inside. He waits, replaying the conversation they had earlier, when Dean told him his plan. He wants to train Castiel. To desensitize him to murder, just like he’s been doing with everything else. He wants them to go back to State, and kill those bastards, together. Not only did Castiel hate it because he never wants to see those boys’ faces again, he hates it because he knows he would love it. He would love it, and then what would that make him? He glances at his watch anxiously. Dean’s been gone for a few too many minutes, and he’s getting nervous. Finally, Dean comes out holding the girl from the jukeboxes hand. Jealousy stirs in Castiel’s gut, wrapping itself up to his chest and squeezing his heart. 

He can hear their laughter from across the parking lot as they walk towards the impala, huddled together for warmth. Dean throws his head back, as if whatever she just said is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. When they reach the impala, Dean pushes the girl up against Castiel’s door. Castiel jumps back, trying not to stare at the ass pushed against his window. The girl is still laughing as Dean kisses her neck and jawline. Castiel feels tears welling up in his eyes, but he grits his teeth and wills them away. He knows Dean doesn’t mean it. It’s just the only way to get a victim without being suspicious. If he had listened, Castiel would have been the one pushing her up against the impala.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Dean opens the backseat and helps the girl slide in. Her face is flushed and she’s breathing hard. “Hey, you must be Castiel.”

“Mhm.” Castiel watches Dean make his way around the vehicle, hating him more and more with every step he takes. Just as Dean slips into the driver’s seat, the girl speaks again.

“I’m Meg.” She acts like Castiel cares. Which, he supposes, she could be under the assumption that he does. Dean asks her something, giving her a flirty smile, but Castiel ignores him. He watches out the window as the impala starts moving, hating the man he loves with all of his heart.

By the time they’re back at the hotel, the girl is ready to go. She’s referred to Castiel as shy more than once, which is starting to piss him off. Just as they get into the bedroom she asks if the shy one is going to fuck her too, or if he’s just going to watch. Castiel clenches his fists, wanting to tell her the shy one is going to slit her throat. The thought comes out of nowhere, making his stomach churn. He looks away from her, letting Dean make the decision. 

After what happened last time, Dean figures it would be good to keep Castiel hands off. At the same time, he doesn’t want him to sit in a corner all night. “He’ll be helping me.” Dean says, walking over to the girl and unzipping her dress. Castiel watches from across the room, his arms down straight at his sides. His hands are shaking. He doesn’t want Dean to touch her, or even look at her. He definitely doesn’t want him to fuck her. 

By the time the girl is naked Castiel hates himself. He’s itching for Dean’s knife, which he knows is in the top drawer of the bedside table. He could slit the girl’s throat right now, and Dean would be so damn proud of him. Maybe Dean would even have sex with him instead, forgetting all about the girl. He glances at the table, trying to figure out a way to sneak into the drawer. Just as he takes a step towards it, Dean calls for him. Castiel comes over quickly, not wanting to piss Dean off. 

“Let her suck you off while I get her ready.” Dean instructs casually. The girl moans, her ass in the air just like Castiel’s was last night. He grits his teeth, unzipping his pants quickly. He gets in front of her, barely waiting for her to fully open her mouth before shoving his dick in. He goes in a little too far, earning a choked gasp from her. He pulls out quickly, coming to his senses, but she’s smiling. He almost rolls his eyes. 

He glances over her shoulder as he pushes back inside her mouth. Dean’s eating her out, but he’s watching Castiel. When he notices his boy looking at him he pulls back and smiles a little, earning a frustrated groan from the girl. He quickly dives back in, closing his eyes to concentrate. Castiel wonders if he likes girls better. He looks like he’s enjoying her. 

The idea pisses him off. Dean should be killing her, not fucking her. Why isn’t he good enough for him? Why does Dean need this in his life, when Castiel is willing to give him everything? Anger rises inside Castiel, pushing him to move faster and harder. Too soon, he feels himself getting close, shooting his load down the girl’s throat. She swallows and licks him clean enthusiastically. When he glances at Dean again, he’s staring at him. In fact, Dean is so focused on Castiel that he isn’t even touching the girl anymore. Castiel loves that. Maybe the jealousy was stupid after all.

Just as he thinks that, the girl looks up at him. She smiles wide, her lips shiny with spit. “I need a cock.” She licks her lips, pushing her ass farther in the air. It’s pornographic and slutty, but she actually succeeds at making it sexy. She ruins the mood quickly though. “Who’s it gonna be? The bad boy, or Mr. Pretty eyes?”

Castiel’s whole body freezes. He shakes his head, taking a step back. He looks up at Dean with wide eyes. How does she know? That couldn’t have been a coincidence. He takes a gulp of air, trying to fight the memory of that night. He can almost smell the basement. Can almost taste the guy’s dick on his tongue. With shaking hands he yanks open the side table, pulling out the knife. The girl jumps and screams, causing Dean to curse.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean grabs the girl from behind, holding her to his chest. She’s yelling and kicking the air. Her nails are digging into his skin. Castiel knows this is bad. He knows he was supposed to wait until she was restrained, or at least caught off guard. Dean spent almost an hour talking him through what they would do tonight. This wasn’t it. 

But all Castiel can think about is that night. He never wanted to be called pretty eyes again. Never. He even considered getting colored contacts. His whole body is shaking as he comes towards Dean. The older man is staring at him, eyes wide. He has one arm holding the girl to him while the other one is wrapped around her neck, a hand covering her mouth. Castiel has never seen him so panicked. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice just below a yell. In all the scenarios, Castiel being the one to kill wasn’t one of them. They didn’t plan this. They didn’t practice. Dean hasn’t mentally prepared him. His first kill, and his last, were supposed to be those guys. Clean. Simple. Guilt free. And then he could finally move on.

Castiel doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his vision blurs. When he wipes at his eyes to see better, he notices his fingers come back wet. He stares at them like they’re foreign for a second.

“Cas!” Dean yells, bringing him back to the moment. He’s cutting off her airway. Not enough to make her pass out but enough to make her weak. He has to admit, he loves the fight. He hasn’t had a good, hard kill in a long time. But this is too much for Castiel. Too much to handle right now. 

“Just relax. It’ll be over soon.” Castiel says quietly, his voice comforting. The girl gets some fight back in her, kicking and screaming again. Dean’s hand is soaking wet, smothered in her spit and tears. He laughs menacingly. 

“Hold still, whore.” Dean grits out, pride filling his chest. This is wrong. He’s making Castiel into something that he isn’t. Something bad. Something like Dean. But the idea of what’s about to happen. The sheer thought of it, is driving Dean crazy. “Give me the knife Cas.” He shifts a little, getting ready to grab it from Castiel. 

“I’ll do it.” Castiel whispers. Dean jumps slightly. He figured they were going to kill her, especially at this point, but he didn’t actually think Castiel would do it. Dean’s been wanting to get Castiel back to participating in the kills again, in preparation for their trip back to the University. But not to be the one to actually kill, and not tonight. Not this soon. This is going to break him.

“You sure?” Dean asks. The knife is sitting loosely in the palm of Castiel’s hand. He stares at it for a moment, then tightens his grip. 

“Yeah. I want to.” Dean still doesn’t know what triggered Castiel, and he hates the fact that he got triggered at all, but he’s excited it changed his mind. Dean gives him an encouraging smile, part of him scared to death. The other part is shaking with excitement. 

“I’m not a monster” Castiel quietly mutters. He peaks up at Dean beneath his eyelashes, but he’s talking to the girl. She’s pleading with her eyes, mumbling something behind Dean’s hand. 

“Let me do it.” Dean whispers. He can see Castiel about to fall apart. The edges of him are already crumbling. 

“No.” Castiel climbs onto the bed, settling himself in front of the girl. She kicks her right leg out, hitting him in the stomach. He gasps but it just makes him want to hurt her more. He gets closer to her, yanking a fistful of her hair. Dean adjusts himself, still staying close to help if Castiel needs. He’s got his arms wrapped around the girl’s waist, but her neck and head are free. Along with her mouth. She starts begging instantly, one of Dean’s favorite parts. Castiel yanks her hair harder, exposing her neck. Dean smiles, moving closer. He wants to memorize every detail of this. 

“He’s going to kill you now.” Dean whispers. As terrible as all of this is, Castiel is smiling. And that gives him a rush. With a deep breath, Castiel pulls the knife cleanly across the girl’s exposed skin. Blood sprays the bright white bed sheets, a few drops splattering the wall and headboard. Most of it covers Castiel though. 

He lets go of her hair, letting her fall on the bed. He’s breathing hard and fast, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Dean’s staring at him with wide, excited eyes. He leans in quickly, having to hover over the dead body. He grabs Castiel’s hair, pulling him into a rough kiss. He can taste the girl’s blood there, moaning as he darts his tongue out to lick it. When he pulls back, Dean’s smiling like crazy. “Holy shit.” He whispers, his smile growing. 

But Castiel isn’t smiling. He’s staring at Dean, the blue of his eyes duller somehow. “Is this how you like me?” Castiel asks, his voice broken. Dean sits there, not sure what to say. Honestly, Dean likes him either way. But Dean needs those boys to die. If it means it’s the last thing he does, he doesn’t care. He needs them to die. He just wanted Castiel to be the one to get to do it. 

“I love you. No matter what.” Dean whispers. Castiel is still staring at him, making him feel on edge. Finally, Castiel looks down at his hand, shaking his head. He drops the knife onto the bed and climbs off of it. Castiel walks over to the bathroom, his hand on the door. He takes in a deep breath. 

“I’m not sure I can say the same.” He doesn’t look back at Dean, slamming the door shut and locking it. He leans up against it for a few seconds, listening to Dean on the other side of it. He can practically hear the man’s thoughts, wondering if it would be best to knock or leave him alone. Thankfully, he chooses the latter. 

Castiel climbs into the shower, turning the water as hot as it can go. He breathes deeply as it burns his skin, turning the pigment bright red. He watches as the blood runs off his fingertips, swirling around his toes. He’s not shaking anymore. He’s perfectly calm. For a long time he just watches the water wrap around the drain, examining the way it twists and spins. 

By the time he comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in an oversized white towel, the body is gone. He stares at the bed in shock. He must have been in the shower a lot longer than he thought. The room is empty and quiet. He picks up the worn out flannel lying on top of the mattress, neatly folded, along with a pair of Dean’s boxers. He sighs, pulling them on quickly. Throwing the towel on the floor he climbs into the bed, wondering how Dean already got clean sheets. The room smells faintly of bleach, but he knows for a fact that he wasn’t in that shower long enough for Dean to run and get cleaning supplies. 

After an hour passes it dawns on Castiel that Dean might not be coming back. He might have decided Castiel was too fucked up. Dean fell in love with the innocent boy who feared the idea of murder, not the disgusting man he was today. Before he can think about it any further, the door clicks open. Dean shuts it behind himself quietly, trying his best to make no noise as he slides the chain lock into place. When he turns around he jumps slightly. 

“Sorry.” He whispers, looking at Castiel cautiously. “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I wanted to wait up for you.” He whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. He wants more than anything to be in Dean’s arms right now. 

“I’ll take you home.” Dean says quietly, placing his keys on top of the hotel counter. He slips his boots off, coming closer to the bed. He doesn’t climb in though, instead hovering just a few inches away. “In the morning. I’ll take you home and you’ll never have to see me again.” Castiel’s heart breaks as a lump forms in his throat. It’s what he wanted a few days ago. Hell, it’s what he wanted an hour ago. But about halfway through that shower, he realized something that took his breath away. 

“You’re my home.” Castiel whispers. The truth of it sends a shockwave down his spine. He can’t leave Dean, no matter what kind of monster he’s turning him into. It’s not an option.

Dean’s face crumples. He starts crying, throwing himself onto Castiel. Castiel lets out a grunt at the force of the hug, but doesn’t push Dean away. 

“We’re okay.” Castiel whispers. “Everything will be okay.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaah I keep leaving you guys hanging. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible person. Here comes some happy Christmas fluff though (followed by the ending :(   
> A few more chapters to go everyone! Prepare for what is going to be, quite literally, a crash landing. 
> 
> Enjoy (:
> 
> PS: Check out my tumblr: http://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/ &&& leave me some prompts for my upcoming 25 days of Christmas!!

The next morning Dean wakes up to Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling huge. Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. They stayed up late last night, almost until sunrise. They talked for hours, about how they felt for each other, for the lives they were living. At 4:39 am Castiel agreed to help Dean kill those boys. At 5:06, Dean agreed to quit killing after that. To take Castiel’s hand and walk away. To leave it all behind. “Good mornin’.” 

“Good morning!” Castiel says, trying not to act too excited. As the sleepiness wears off, Dean puts some more of the details together. Their duffel bags are all packed and sitting next to the door, nothing in the room but a clean pair of clothes for Dean to put on. 

“Am I missing something?” Dean asks, his voice gruff and low. He pushes the comforter off himself and sits up slowly, his back cracking in the process. He flexes his muscles, smiling when he hears Castiel’s breath hitch. “You sure you don’t wanna come back to bed?” He asks seductively, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nope. We have to get going.” Castiel stands up quickly and grabs the pile of clothes on the table. “These are for you. Put them on please.” Dean can’t help but smile at how cute he is. He takes the clothes from him, his hand caressing the softness of his flannel. It smells like Castiel. 

“Like I asked, am I missing something?” Despite his joking and protests, Dean stands up and starts getting dressed. 

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh, Monday. I think?” He shrugs. “Tuesday maybe?”

“It’s the day before Christmas Eve Dean.” Castiel says disapprovingly. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s been with Dean for so long. It’s not a good thing that he feels so damn comfortable with this man. That he loves him so much. 

“I didn’t take you for the type to like Christmas, honestly.” Dean pulls his flannel on, grabbing his keys and wallet from the side table. He shoves them in his back pocket. He hated Christmas growing up. It was the peak of disappointment for him and Sammy, every year. 

“Are you kidding? I’m named after a damn angel. My parent’s take Christmas very seriously.” Castiel scratches his head. “Not that I’m into the whole God thing. I haven’t been since I was old enough to read a science book. But the holiday itself, it still gets me every time.” Castiel shrugs shyly, looking away. “Christmas makes my depression vanish for a bit. I’ve never been able to explain it. Probably just the whole warm and fuzzy feeling.”

“Well, if it does that then we are definitely celebrating.” Dean shifts slightly, his stance moving from casual to more confident. He’s not sure how, but he’s going to make this one of Castiel’s best yet. 

“Good. But not here. The south is no place to be for Christmas. I’m born and raised in Wisconsin. There’s no way in hell I’m not having a white Christmas.” 

“You want to go to Wisconsin?”

“Oh, no. That’s too far away. And it’s too close to my parents. I don’t wanna get caught. I just want to be somewhere in the snow.”

“That can be arranged. We need to eat first though. We’ll stop at that diner on the way out of town.”

“Okay!” Castiel says excitedly, actually clapping his hands. Dean’s pretty sure if he was a few years younger, or depression free, he’d be jumping up and down.

“Someone’s a little excited.”

“Shut up. Don’t you love Christmas?” Castiel asks, sounding shocked that anyone could possibly not like Christmas. Dean rolls his eyes.

“I had a very different childhood than you. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I even celebrated Christmas. Or even remembered to acknowledge it.” Yes he can. Three years ago. He killed a creepy mall Santa. 

“Oh my god!” Castiel screams, his hand flying to his mouth. “Grinch!”

“No no no. I’m not the Grinch. I just haven’t celebrated it in a long time.”

“This has to be fixed. It’s official now. We have to go all out.”

“That’s fine. Just let me get some damn food first.” Dean says with a smile. He grabs both duffel bags, leading Castiel out of the hotel. Castiel giggles.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll get you your food, ya Grinch.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone (: Don't hate me for taking so fricken long to update my lovelies!! IM SORRY
> 
> Enjoy (:

When Castiel wakes up, it’s slow and lazy. Once his eyes fully adjust to the brightness coming through the windows of the impala, he jumps. “Oh my god!” He yells, his face practically slamming against the window. “Dean, it’s snowing!” Dean laughs. It’s been snowing for the last three hours, and until this moment he’s been cursing the weather. Seeing   
Castiel’s face makes the slippery roads and asshole drivers worth it though. Castiel scrunches his nose in confusion, looking at a road sign as they pass. “Wait, where are we going?”

“Where everyone wants to go for Christmas.” Castiel stares at him in confusion. “New York, Cas.”

“Seriously?” Castiel’s head swivels back and forth between Dean and the window, his cheeks hurting from the smile on his face. “Dean this is. This is incredible.”

“I know.” Dean shrugs, smiling. “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but, ya know. Toot toot.” He glances over at Castiel, loving how excited he is. He can practically feel his adrenaline from across the car. 

“Wait, Dean this is stupid. Where are we going to stay? New York at Christmas has to be booked!” Castiel’s excitement deflates slightly. 

“Hotel is already booked. It’s this nice fancy one with a view and everything. And we have dinner reservations for tomorrow night. And tickets to the show at Radio City Music Hall.”

“How?”

“I made a call, or two.” Seventeen actually. Seventeen calls to make the perfect Christmas for Castiel. Dean’s going to be so damn broke after this trip. 

“You are amazing.” Castiel says breathlessly. Dean’s heart swells, but he tries not to let Castiel know the effect he’s having on him.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a wad loser.”

“Grinch.” Castiel says, pretend pouting. But inside he’s smiling, and Dean knows it. “So what’s the plan, anyway?”

“Oh no, you don’t get to know. You’re just along for the ride sweetheart.”

“Boo.” Castiel crosses his arms, pouting still. Dean laughs at how cute he is right now. After a few minutes of silence Castiel finally stops watching the snow, bringing his attention to the radio. He turns the knobs, earning a protest from Dean when he passes the Classic Rock station. He settles on a station playing Christmas music. The good kind too, with the classical songs and pretty voices, not the Justin Bieber covers. 

Castiel sings softly to himself, staring out the window again. Dean watches him every chance he gets, not wanting to risk crashing with Castiel in the car. “I swear, I fall more and more in love with you every second Cas.” Dean didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the smile Castiel gives him makes it okay. His embarrassment disappears instantly, replaced by this unwavering happiness. 

“It’s gone.” Castiel says quietly.

“What?” Dean asks, a panic rising in his chest. His knife? His money? Oh fuck, Castiel’s love for him?

“My depression.” Castiel smiles wide, his blue eyes sparkling. “It’s gone.” He doesn’t have to say ‘for now’, they both hear it loud and clear. But for now is a hell of a lot better than not at all. They’ll both take it. 

“Good.” Dean says quietly, his voice catching in his throat. He focuses on the road, his eyes starting to tear up. He bites his lip, trying to calm down. “That’s really good, Cas.”

 

 

They arrive in town at night, which is actually pretty ideal. All of the buildings and trees are lit up, and there are decorations everywhere. They drive slowly, going with the flow of traffic. Castiel points out all the bright trees and famous store fronts. He practically squeals when they pass the outdoor ice rink at the Rockefeller Center. He shifts in his seat, turning his body fully so he can watch out the window. He points out people and places and everything in between. Dean tries hard not to laugh at him the whole time.   
When they pull into the hotel, Castiel looks like he’s going to pass out. “The Plaza!” Castiel practically screams. Dean smiles, pulling up to the valet. They both get out, Dean grabbing the duffel bags from the back seat quickly. He gives the keys to the valet, giving him a cautious smile. 

“Treat her right.” He says sternly, handing the guy a one hundred dollar bill. They head into the hotel, Dean ignoring the way Castiel gasps when they walk into the lobby. There’s a giant tree in the center, strung with lights and decorated perfectly. Dean leans up against the counter, smiling at the pretty girl behind it. She perks up immediately. 

“Miss Jennifer?” Dean asks quietly, knowing the answer already from her name tag. He glances at Castiel, his smile growing into a genuine one as he watches him stand only inches away from the tree, staring in awe. 

“You must be Mr. Gilmour!” She says brightly. Dean directs his attention to her, raising his eyebrows. 

“That I am.”

“Awesome.” She grabs the key for their room, about to hand it to him. “I’ll just need to see a credit card, along with a form of identification.”

“Oh, I pay strictly with cash.” He winks at her. Castiel is standing behind him now, hanging back slightly. He’s worried, Dean can practically feel the anxiety rippling from him. “I’m a very powerful man. I’m not too keen on reporters tracking me down.”

“Oh, of course.” The girl blushes bright red, handing him the key. “I am so sorry Mr. Gilmour.” Dean tries not to smile at how easily that worked. He has no proof he’s famous, or rich, or powerful. But he has a feeling the girl is too freaked out about losing her job to question it. Powerful people don’t like being questioned. 

Dean takes the key and gives her a reassuring smile. He grabs Castiel’s hand and pulls him along, having to pull a little harder when they go past the tree. “You’ll see it again Cas, don’t worry.”

They both walk pretty slow as they make their way up to their floor. The whole place is gorgeous. About halfway down the hall of the fourth floor Dean notices Castiel slowing down.  
“Dean?” He asks softly. Dean slowed down so they were beside each other again, raising his eyebrows. 

“We aren’t going to kill anyone here, right?” It breaks Dean’s heart that he even has to ask. He wouldn’t dare do that, not this week.

“Hey. It’s Christmas.” Dean shakes his head, taking Castiel’s hand again. “I would never ruin that for you.”

“Good.” Castiel looks around the hall, his blue eyes shining bright. “Thank you, for all of this Dean.”

“Of course.” Dean pulls Castiel close, wrapping his right arm around his waist. “Anything. Anything for you baby.” 

When they finally reach the room they’re both exhausted. All of Castiel’s energy comes rushing back when he sees it though. “Holy shit!” He yells. Dean hushes him, but he’s smiling. Castiel spins around the room slowly, trying to take it all in. There’s so much marble, and the sinks are plated gold. There are cream chairs next to a fireplace, with gold throw pillows on them. The bedspread is all gold. Dean’s seen a room a lot like this, at a cheap hotel in vegas. But this is the opposite of that. This is gorgeous. Castiel walks to the window, running his fingers along the cream curtains. He looks out at the view, letting out a small gasp.

Dean walks over to an Ipad sitting on the side table. He clicks a few buttons, seeing that he can adjust the temperature, order room service, and even play music using the room’s speakers. He lets out a low whistle. He supposes it’s a good thing the room is fancy, considering the bill he’ll have at the end of the trip. Castiel smiles at him from across the room. 

“Are we adventuring, or just crashing here for the night?” He asks softly. Dean is dead exhausted. It was an emotional night last night and he got no sleep, unlike sleepy head over here who slept almost the whole car ride. 

“Up to you sweetheart.” Dean says, putting on his best smile. He stops himself from dragging a hand down his face, not wanting to give himself away. If Castiel wanted to spend hours walking around the city tonight, he would. Castiel glances at the large clock on the wall, smiling. 

“It’s already pretty late. We should stay in.” He scratches his stomach through his sweater. Dean smiles at the sight of it. Once Castiel found out they were going north, he practically sprinted to get his new winter clothes out. “I am kind of hungry though.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “You’re actually admitting to being hungry?” 

“Shut up!” Castiel says harshly, but he’s smiling. Dean picks up the Ipad, shaking it gently. 

“Room service?” Castiel actually giggles slightly. He nods, looking out the window again while Dean does the order. 

“My parents always wanted to take me to New York.” Castiel whispers. Dean puts the Ipad down softly, walking over to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around Castiel’s   
small waist, pulling him in tightly. He rests his chin on the top of Castiel’s head, admiring the view. His parents are loaded, his father a CEO and his mother owning her own law   
firm. They had to have been to New York City a few times in their careers. 

“Why didn’t they?”

“At first, I was too little. Their friends and coworkers were always into the whole nannies are better thing, so they went along with it.” Castiel shrugged it off, but there was a hint of sadness to his voice. “Once I was older, I wasn’t happy or social enough. I mean don’t get me wrong, that night last year made matters worse, but I’ve struggled with all my problems since a pretty young age.”

“Then of course the whole gay thing happened. After that, they decided it was better to keep me busy at home while they ran along.” Castiel scoffs, pressing himself harder into dean’s chest. “You know, I can speak three languages. I also play the guitar and the violin.”

“Seriously?” Dean asks, trying to pick out the different buildings outside. He can see, even from all the way up here, that the city is decorated. Its glow is tinted a little more red and green than usual, unless he’s just going crazy. 

“Oh yeah. Spanish, French and Italian. Also Latin, but since that’s a dead language I don’t actually speak it.” Dean bites his bottom lip gently. He knew they were from other worlds but holy shit. 

“Did they bring you anywhere cool?” 

“Not really. We did a spring break in Mexico, along with a Christmas at Disney World. We had a trip planned for Paris, but I got a bad grade on an exam so they canceled.”

“Well that’s shit.” Dean sighs. Before he can say anything there’s a knock on the door. Castiel jumps slightly. 

“Room Service.” Someone calls out. Dean walks to the door, surprised when he’s greeted by a white gloved butler. During the whole exchange, Castiel watches from behind him. When Dean closes the door, walking towards the cart that was wheeled in, he laughs. 

“Come on Cas, I’m not an idiot. You’ve seen a butler before I’m sure.”

“Oh, of course. We had two. It’s just different here. All of it is so different with you.” Castiel says quietly, taking the cover off one of the trays. He smiles when he sees a filet mignon and roasted potatoes.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, watching as Castiel puts the cover back, then picks another one up. This one is filled with fruit. It’s practically overflowing with it, all fresh and brightly colored. 

“It’s sort of hard to explain. But when we went shopping that day, it was different. I’ve had personal shoppers, and a closet full of designer clothes, but walking around the mall with you was so much fun. Picking out clothes, actually picking them out by myself, was amazing.” He shrugs. “And this hotel. I’ve been in fancy hotels before. I’ve been in penthouses and presidential suites, but this, here, with you? Knowing you picked this room out, you put all that effort in. That’s amazing to me.”

Castiel smiles, setting the plates on the table in the center of the room. He starts arranging them while Dean watches. “Hell, Dean. Even the motel 8 with you would be amazing. And the whole Christmas thing. The fact that you did this. I would have settled for anywhere with snow. Even if it meant sleeping in the Impala. It’s crazy, but my life with you- it’s so much better than my life before we met. I feel alive.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Dean whispers. Castiel smiles at that, rolling his eyes.

“Eat your dinner Dean.”

“And then what?” Dean asks, his voice low and husky. He leans down, running the tip of his nose along Castiel’s. Castiel shivers. 

“Mmm,” He kisses Dean. Once, twice. Three times. Then smiles. “Then you can take me to bed.”

“That,” Dean says quietly. He takes a long, deep breath. “That sounds perfect.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try not to die from the happiness of this chapter (or at least what I hope is happiness?!?!). Only four or five chapters left my friends.. I have REALLY enjoyed writing this and sharing it with all of you. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through the whole process!!
> 
> Side note: my 25 days of Destiel Christmas starts tomorrow on my tumblr, as well as a masterpost on her. Enjoy it (:  
> http://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/

Castiel couldn’t stand still. There was so much to see and do. Every minute they spent stopped at something was a minute they wasted. Dean physically had to hold him in place once or twice. Even Louis Vuitton couldn’t get him to be calm for more than a few minutes. They’re making their way down Fifth Avenue, taking in all the decorations and buildings. The best part of all of it is how busy the city is. They haven’t had to hide their faces once. Of course, people wouldn’t be able recognize them anyway. Dean insisted on bundling Castiel up so he wouldn’t get sick, wrapping him in a puffy jacket, plaid scarf and a fuzzy winter hat. Castiel pouted about it of course, which meant Dean had to bundle up as well just to be fair. 

“Let’s stop here.” Dean says quickly, yanking on Castiel’s hand. He can see his breath as he talks, making it perfect timing for them to be passing a Starbucks. Surprisingly, Castiel doesn’t even argue. Dean regrets the decision almost immediately though. The line is incredibly long, almost to the door, and Castiel is bouncing on his heels impatiently. After a few minutes Dean offers for them to leave, but Castiel waves him off. 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Dean rolls his eyes at this, watching as Castiel stares out the window longingly. He can’t help but smile at him though. 

“Where do you want to make sure we get to today?” Dean’s pretty sure he’s going to answer with ‘everywhere,’ but he actually considers it for a moment.

“For sure ice skating at the Rockefeller center. Other than that, I’m open to whatever we end up doing!” Before Dean can answer, it’s their turn in line. Castiel starts to say something but Dean talks over him, ordering them both Trenta Hot Chocolates. He laughs when Castiel puts his bottom lip out while they wait for their drinks to be made.

“Oh hush,” Dean says, playfully tapping him on the nose. “You have enough energy today, you did not need to add coffee to the mix.” 

Castiel grudgingly sucks his lip back in, knowing that Dean is probably right. Thankfully the drinks are done quickly, and it only takes them a few more minutes before they’re back outside. Before Dean can ask where they should go next, Castiel is already walking. Dean follows closely behind, holding his cup tightly. Just as he’s feeling heat radiate through the Styrofoam, Castiel lets out a squeal.

“Barnes and Noble!” He yells. He barely even looks back at Dean before storming towards the entrance. A jewelry store close by catches Dean’s eye, but he follows Castiel inside. There’s no way he could leave him without the boy getting suspicious. He has to play it cool if he wants to sneak off for Christmas Presents. 

Dean sticks with Castiel in the store for a few minutes, then makes up a book he wants to search for. They could lose each other easily in the store, spending hours looking at books. That’s what Dean is hoping any way. He just needs enough time to run to the store and pick something nice out. “Hey, I’ll be right back.” Dean says, scratching his jaw nonchalantly. Castiel is sitting on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books. Dean’s surprised he even hears him. 

“Okay. Where do you wanna meet?” Castiel asks, not even looking up from the book he is currently evaluating. Dean hopes he doesn’t pick out any today, because books would be even worse than clothes to carry around. 

“Uhh,” Dean glances at his watch. “Meet at the first floor bathrooms, 1 o’clock.” Castiel nods, still reading the book. Dean’s chest constricts a bit when he realizes this will be the first time they’re really apart. He’s left him in the hotel before, or the car, but this is different. What if he comes back at 1, and Castiel isn’t there? He pushes the thought aside, knowing how Castiel feels about him. He kneels down, giving the boy a quick kiss, and then makes his way towards the exit.

The cold air slaps him in the face, and he clings to his cup. He sips as he quickly walks towards the jewelry store, hoping it isn’t crazy busy in there. Thankfully, there are only a few people milling around the shop. It probably isn’t too popular, since Dean didn’t even recognize the name. A young girl peaks up from behind a counter, smiling at him.

“Can I help you with anything, Sir?”

“Yeah.” Dean scans the variety of jewelry, about to ask her where the men’s watches are. Instead, something else comes out. “Do you have wedding bands?”

“We sure do!” She says happily. He follows her as she makes her way towards the back of the store, where it’s a little quieter. Dean’s hands start shaking. He’s not sure why he said that. He’s not getting married. “You don’t want your wife to pick it out?” She asks, making conversation as she gets situated behind the counter. 

“Oh, um.” Dean clasps his hands together behind his back, begging his body to calm the fuck down. “I was actually hoping to um,”

“Propose to your boyfriend?” The girl asks. She’s still smiling, her expression no different. She’s not judging him.

“Yeah.” Dean says this with a long exhale, feeling his chest already loosen. His hands are still shaking, but he’s calm enough to set them gently on top of the counter. 

“Oh, yaay. I love proposals.” She squeals, clapping her hands. “How are you going to do it? Give me all the details!” 

Dean gulps. “Honestly,” he runs a hand down his face, trying not to laugh at himself. “I didn’t even know I was planning to, until you asked me what I needed.”

Her smile grows from overenthusiastic to something a little more sincere. Her eyes soften as she looks down in the case.

“Tell me about him.” She says quietly, sensing that Dean is freaking out a little. Dean looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a minute. So many words come to mind, but none of them are good enough.

“He’s beautiful. And intelligent. Sometimes he blows my mind with the things he knows or says. And his laugh, it’s infectious. I’ve had a rough life, but he can make me laugh my ass off.” Dean shrugs. “I haven’t known him very long.” The realization hits him hard. He barely knows Castiel at all. “I don’t even know his favorite color.”

“Who cares? People usually change their favorite colors all the time anyway.” The girl says, pulling out a set of five rings from under the counter. “From what you said, it sounds like you know his heart. Which is what’s important.”

Dean shrugs, bringing a finger to lightly feel one of the rings. It’s simple. Not too thick or too thin, and black. He could see Castiel wearing it. “This is nice.” Dean says quietly, not acknowledging what she had said. She smiles at him, letting it reach her eyes.

“It is. It can also be engraved.”

“That’s okay.” Dean checks his watch. He only has a few minutes left. 

“Okay. What ring size is he?” Dean blushes. If he doesn’t know his favorite color, how is he supposed to know that? The girl notices his expression, smiling again. “When you hold his hand, is it bigger or smaller than yours?”

Dean doesn’t even have to think about that. Castiel’s hands fit perfectly in his, his small fingers fitting just right in between his larger ones. “He’s a little smaller than me.” The girl takes Dean’s right hand, measuring him as he watches. Then she goes down a few sizes, holding the sample up for him.

“This look about right?”

“Yeah.” Dean squints at it. It might be a tad big, but at least it won’t be too small. They can always get it sized. “How much is it?” He’s afraid to ask. Between all the festivities,   
he’s running low.

“299.” Dean let’s out a low whistle. It’s not terrible. It’ll make Castiel smile, which is what matters. “We have his size in stock. Would you like it right now, or are you planning to pick it up later?”

“Now please.” Dean reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the necessary money. She comes back a few minutes later, a black velvet box in her hand. She rings him up and hands it to him, smiling wide. 

His hands start shaking. He clutches it tightly, staring at her with wide eyes. “Wait.” He says quickly. He looks around the store, noticing that it’s getting busier. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I don’t-”

Dean stares down at the box, a lump in his throat. “You don’t know how you should do it?”

“Yeah.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s holding the box. She rests her head in her hand, propping herself up on an elbow.

“Well, I think I could help you with that.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After this, there is only one chapter left (plus part 1 & 2 of the epilogue!!!) GAAAH. I am feeling so many different emotions right now as I near the end. I hope you all enjoyed the story so far, and enjoy what I have left to post. You have all been amazing and I just want to thank everyone who gave kudos/comments!!! A few comments actually made me cry I was so happy. So THANK YOU THANK YOU!
> 
> Enjoy (:

When Dean gets back to the bookstore, he’s seven minutes late. The box is weighing heavy in his back pocket, although he’s already checked three times and it’s not visible. He panics a little when Castiel isn’t where they decided to meet. Before he gets too concerned, he makes his way back to the spot where he left the boy. Sure enough, he’s still there- only with more books surrounding him. Dean leans up against a bookshelf for a minute, watching Castiel’s eyelashes flutter as he reads the back cover of each one. 

Eventually, Dean clears his throat. Castiel jumps, dropping the book in his hand. He looks up at Dean, immediately giving him is ‘I know I’m in trouble, but I’m just so cute aren’t I?’   
look. “You’re late.” Dean says, feeling hypocritical.

“I’m sorry. There’s just so many.” Castiel whispers, looking up at Dean with big, sad blue eyes.

“We aren’t getting all of them.” Dean says firmly. Castiel keeps staring up at him, his lower lip just barely peeking out. Dean shakes his head. “No, they would be terrible to carry around Cas.”

“I can’t choose.” Castiel runs his hand over one of the piles. It’s about five books high, surrounded by three or four other stacks just as big. 

“Why don’t we stop by again tomorrow and get them?” Castiel sighs, looking at all that he has accomplished. 

“You’re going to make me just leave all of them here?” 

And that’s how Dean ends up in the backseat of a taxi, surrounded by bags of books, heading back to the hotel. He already tried making Castiel feel guilty twice, but it’s not working. Taking time out of their day to dump stuff at their room is apparently worth it when books are involved. Dean should have seen this coming when he decided to kidnap an English major. 

By the time they are back on Fifth Avenue, thankfully past Barnes and Noble, it’s almost dinner time. Just as Dean is asking Castiel what he’s feeling for dinner, Castiel interrupts him with a squeal. There’s a ‘Christmas in New York’ store, the epiphany of happiness for Castiel. Dean tries not to mumble to himself, knowing this is going to be the bookstore all over again. 

They spend almost an hour in the store, wandering the aisles. Dean has to admit, the magic of the holiday is slowly getting to him. He’s still a Grinch, according to Castiel, but it’s a start.   
After they’re finished taking in all the decorations and gifts, they head to a Potbelly’s sandwich shop for a late lunch. Dean tries not to laugh as he watches Castiel unbundle, peeling back layers until his skinny boyfriend is revealed. They talk over sandwiches and big bowls of soup, laughing at each other.

Dean tells Castiel stories of him and Sammy growing up. He tells him about the time he broke his arm, when they were pretending to be superheroes. He tells him about his mom, what little he remembers. Castiel listens intently as Dean opens up about his first kill, a boy who had beat the shit out of Sam after school. He talks about what it felt like to snap, accidently going too far. What if felt like to get away with it, to want to do it again. He talks about the books he read in high school, peaking Castiel’s interest with a few of them. And of course, he tells him his favorite color- green.

Castiel talks mostly of school. There’s a fondness to his voice, which sort of makes Dean feel empty inside. He took Castiel away from education, from literature. He was selfish. Castiel takes his mind off of it though when the conversation wanders. He talks about friends he had back in high school, this quirky girl named Charlie who loved to hack into the principal’s computer and mess with her things. He told him about his friend Chuck, who happened to be his first kiss- they both hated it by the way. He tells Dean he’s jealous he got siblings. Castiel was alone growing up, especially since his parents were so busy. And of course, he tells Dean his favorite color, although he’s confused why it matters. Purple. But if you ask him next week, it’ll probably be different. 

 

 

Their reservation isn’t until almost midnight. The girl at the jewelry store has a close friend who works there. She made one quick call and they had prime time tickets, getting to skate their way right into Christmas. By the time they get on the ice, snow is gently falling from the sky. Castiel’s cheeks are rosy, peeking out from between his hat and his scarf. 

Castiel is so excited to get on the ice, almost leaving Dean behind. They skate for a few minutes, and Dean learns he is terrible at it. He’s falling on his ass every other time he attempts to move. Apparently, Castiel has experience. He skates circles around Dean, laughing at him each time he falls. “You’re hopeless.” He tells him halfway through. Dean’s about to call it quits, frustration getting the better of him. But he wants to wait until midnight. 

Castiel takes him by the hands, leading him gently across the ice. By the time people stop skating, staring at the clock and counting down to midnight, Dean’s getting the hang of it. Just as people are about to start cheering, Dean cups Castiel’s face. Castiel looks away from the clock and at him, smiling like a child. It calms Dean a little as he gets down on one knee. “Castiel.” The name sounds funny for him. He shakes his head as he pulls out the ring. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it from the heart. Screw the rehearsed speech from the jewelry girl. “Cas.” His voice is shaking as he opens the box. Castiel gasps, his eyes huge.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Cas.” Dean starts again, giving the boy a look to shut him up. Castiel covers his mouth, hiding a smile. “When I met you, you were so broken. You didn’t want to be alive anymore. It broke my fucking heart. But since you’ve been with me, I’ve earned so many laughs and smiles. I’ve earned your love.” Dean swallows the lump in his throat, noticing that people are staring at them. His jeans are soaked where they touch the ice, his kneecap almost numb from the cold. “Now it’s your turn. I want to give you the world, because you deserve it. If you say yes. If you stay with me forever, then I’ll have everything I will ever need. And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you feel the same.”

“Yes.”

“Wait I’m not done.”

“Dean.” Castiel tries pulling him up to a standing position. “Yes.”

“Cas, will you marry me?” He’s already standing, due to the impatient boy in front of him. Castiel is smiling wide. Dean doesn’t even notice the camera flashes, or the swarm of people. All he   
focuses on is the look on Castiel’s face as he says yes. Over and over again, until the ring is slipped on his finger and their lips are locked together. Everyone is cheering, but all Dean sees is Castiel. 

“Merry Christmas my gorgeous boy.” Dean whispers. Castiel laughs, kissing him hard. 

“Best Christmas ever.” Castiel whispers breathlessly.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My advice to you all.. grab some tissues. Like.. A LOT of tissues. Because this is the end (minus the epilogue). Enjoy (: -- even though you probably won't. I apologize...

Dean goes out early in the morning to get them donuts. Castiel told him it was a family tradition. His parents were health freaks but every Christmas they got donuts for breakfast. Just as Dean rounds the corner, smiling about the night they had, two vehicles pull up. They’re unmarked but the people that get out of them are in heavy blue jackets, FBI written in white across their backs. Dean curses, backtracking quickly. He ducks behind a tree, watching them for a second.

“Fuck.” He pulls out his phone, turning around and walking away as fast as he can without looking suspicious. He ducks his head, hiding his face in the bright red scarf. He calls Castiel twice before the boy answers.

“What’s taking so long?” Castiel asks grumpily. “I miss you.”

“In a few seconds the FBI is going to break down the door.” Dean is breathing hard, pushing past people quickly. He ducks onto a side road, wondering how the hell to get out of here. He had to leave the impala. Had to leave all of his money. He’s going to have to leave Castiel. The idea threatens to tear him apart, but he has to keep going. One foot in front of the other. “You tell them you didn’t know. You tell them we sometimes had threesomes, but I would always be the one to bring them home. You tell them you fell in love with me on campus, that we spent a few weeks there. You tell them I made your depression better so you ran away. You tell them you didn’t know. You act shocked Cas. You act sick to your stomach at the fucking thought.”

“No!” He can hear Castiel throwing things in a bag and he shakes his head.

“Fucking stop. Dump the bag out. You can’t look like you were running. You can’t look like I called you. You can’t know Cas. You tell them you didn’t know.”

“Don’t leave me.” Castiel whispers, shaking his head. He can’t breathe. There are elephants everywhere. Every inch of his body. 

Dean is crying, his whole body shaking. He keeps walking, not even sure where he’s going. “Lie to them Cas. Do it for me.”

“We’re supposed to get married.” Castiel whimpers.

“I know.” Dean wipes his face, looking at the street signs. He recognizes one of them, heading down it. “Hang up the phone Cas. They’re coming.”

“Dean.”

“When they look at your phone history, say I called to say the bakery ran out. That I had to go further down the road. Don’t tell them I know they’re here.” Dean lets out a shaky breath. “They’ll think I saw them. They’ll think I just left, without telling you.”

“Don’t go.” 

“I love you baby.”

“Dean.”

“Lie Cas. You lie for me, okay? You treat me like the monster I am. You go back to your life, and you don’t think twice about me.”

“Dean.” There’s two sharp knocks on the door, followed by someone shouting ‘FBI.” Dean knows he’s most wanted. He hangs up, because they’ll kick down the door. He’s surprised they even gave a warning. He walks faster, still hiding his face. The tears on his cheeks are frozen now, but he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Right now, his whole body feels that way. 

 

 

Castiel turns his back quickly, rubbing his face clean. He throws the phone on the bed, turning towards the door just in time to see the FBI kick it down. He gasps, his eyes wide. They storm the room, the first man walking straight towards him. He shrugs off his jacket, which is when Castiel realizes he’s in nothing but Dean’s boxers. His whole body is shaking but he wants to tell the officer he’s not cold. The man wraps it around his shoulders, offering him a warm smile.

“I think.” Castiel gulps, trying not to cry. He doesn’t know yet. He isn’t supposed to know yet. “You have the wrong room. The only people here are me and my fiancé, Dean.” He uses the name on purpose, to show that he doesn’t think he should hide his identity. 

“Dean Winchester?” It’s a split second decision. Dean didn’t tell him to lie about that, but to not notice the name would be ridiculous.

“No?” Castiel nods, putting on his fakest smile. “Dean Smith. See, you guys have the wrong room!”

“Why is your fiancé staying here under the name Gilmour?” The officer asks accusingly. Castiel shakes his head, hugging the jacket tighter.

“I don’t-” Castiel looks around the room, acting confused. “He is?” 

“Sir, do you know where your fiancé is?” This is it. He hopes to God Dean is far enough away. He hopes this isn’t the nail in his coffin.

“At the little bakery down the street. He’s getting us breakfast.” Castiel scratches his head. “Do you want me to call him? We were just on the phone. He said they ran out of donuts,   
so he’s probably still there waiting.”

One agent comes out of the bathroom, shaking his head. “All clear.” He says. The man speaking with Castiel nods, sighing. 

“Is he in danger?” Castiel lets his voice rise in panic. This time it’s not fake, just redirected. “Is Dean okay?”

“Mr. Novak, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath.” 

“Is he hurt?” Castiel asks, letting the hysteria take over. Maybe if he just starts sobbing, they’ll leave him alone. The less lies the better. 

“Move.” Another agent says, this time a girl with a high pony tail. She takes Castiel by the arm, gently pulling him aside. She looks annoyed with the other agents, making it clear she sees Castiel as a victim. “Listen, why don’t you get some clothes on Castiel? We can take you down to the station and explain everything.”

“Joe, the guy could be just as guilty of murder as Winchester. Don’t coddle him.”

“Murder?” Castiel half cries, half screams. His whole body is shaking violently, vomit rising up his throat. 

“Yeah. The guy you’ve been shacking up with. He’s one of our most wanted.” Castiel feels like he’s about to faint. He knows this of course, but hearing it out loud brings it all into   
perspective. For the first time in weeks he wishes he were dead. 

“Jake!” The girl yells, giving him a dirty look. Castiel backs up, shaking his head. 

“Leave me alone.” He says quickly, his back hitting the wall. The girl picks up a flannel and a pair of jeans for Castiel, both Dean’s. 

“It’s over Castiel.” The woman smiles at him and it reaches her eyes. “You’re safe now.” That’s when he knows. He knows he got them. Because this woman actually thinks she’s   
comforting him. That the idea of his relationship with a murderer being over, is comforting.

“It’s over.” Castiel says. Looking away. Because the way his face crumbled would give him away. It’s over, and there’s nothing he can do.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is Epilogue: Part 1
> 
> Enjoy (:

Castiel sits by the fireplace in his little apartment. It’s crappy, but he can afford it on his own, just like the college education he’s taking loans out for. Screw therapy. Screw his parent’s rules. After Dr. Lucas spent three whole sessions trying to convince Castiel that Dean was just as much of a monster as the fraternity boys, Castiel called his parents up and told them he’s done. When they cut him off, he laughed.

“I spent months with a fucking serial killer. I learned a thing or two about making it on my own.” He loved pushing that one. They never knew what to say when he acknowledged Dean’s existence. Dr. Lucas told them it was a way to work through his anger and shock. Castiel laughed at that too.

The FBI kept an eye on him for the first few months. They were determined that Dean would come looking for him. Castiel played along, even letting them know when he thought he saw Dean once. When he got a weird letter that might have been from him. Both were dead ends, which Castiel knew. He’d never give them anything real. Even now, more than a year later, after he already gave up hope that Dean is coming back. He would never betray him. 

He watches the fire as he twists the ring on his left hand slowly, finding comfort in the familiarity of it. It’s already a month into the spring semester, and he’s thankful. The weather should be warming up soon, and summer will be coming. One of his friends from his Shakespeare class, Charlie, wants to spend the break building houses in Thailand. He’s actually thinking about it, saving up a little bit of his paycheck every month just in case. 

Just like the sleeping pills he’s been slowly buying. Each time he misses Dean, like really misses him. Each time his heart aches so badly he can’t breathe. Each time he wakes up screaming his name. He goes out and buys more pills. They’re in a Ziploc baggy, on the second shelf of his bookcase. 26 sleeping pills, all tucked between War and Peace, and Gone with the Wind. He hasn’t touched them yet. Because Dean might come back. The FBI has moved on, since a fresh body hasn’t appeared since that day in the Plaza. He’s still on the most wanted list, but he’s been bumped down by more active criminals. It’s safer now.

Castiel finishes his bottle of wine, trying to fight the memories that like to tap at his brain most nights. Afterwards he shuts all of the lights off, locking both the deadbolt and the chain on his door. When he gets to his room he collapses into his bed, a million things running through his mind. He has two exams coming up, along with a paper he needs to write. He sighs, shaking his head. Just as he’s getting comfortable, he hears something rustle in the corner. He sits up, gasping. His right hand swings out to get the lamp, almost knocking it over. When he finally finds the knob to turn it on, the room is flooded with light. Leaning against the wall, with one leg casually crossed over the other, is Dean Winchester.

He’s tanner than he was a year ago, and his muscles bulge more as he crosses his arms, but it’s Dean. “My boy.” He whispers, a slow smile spreading across his lips. Castiel stares at him in shock for a moment, then his body goes into overdrive. 

“You have to leave!” He gets out of bed quickly, panicking. Dean looks hurt by his words, pushing off the wall. 

“I know you’re probably mad, but-”

“Shut up!” Castiel yells, trying to push Dean towards his bedroom window. “The FBI could be watching.”

“They haven’t watched you since November. We’re safe.”

“How do you-”

“Sammy. He’s been keepin an eye on you.” Castiel runs a hand through his hair. He thinks it through for a minute. This is dangerous. This is reckless and stupid. Dean should have never came back for him. He goes to tell him that, but Dean takes his face in his hands. “God, I’ve missed you.”

And that’s it. Castiel’s ready to pack his bag and run. He gets up on his toes, kissing Dean hard. Dean laughs a little but lets him, moving his hands to Castiel’s waist so he can pull him closer. They stand there for what feels like hours. When Castiel tries taking Dean’s shirt off Dean shakes his head. “Not now.” A shiver runs up Castiel’s spine. Not now. Meaning there will be a later.

“I love you.” He has to say it, before the FBI comes marching in or Dean realizes his idiocy and leaves again. 

“I love you too.”

“Are you leaving again?”

“Not yet.”

“Can I come with you?” Castiel asks hopefully, looking up into Dean’s green eyes. He expects his smile to slip, but it doesn’t.

“Of course.” Relief floods Castiel’s body. “We have something to do first.” Dean gives him a light kiss, earning a smile from Castiel. 

“Anything.” Castiel says breathlessly. 

 

 

The car Dean is driving isn’t nearly as nice as the impala. “It works.” Dean says with a shrug when Castiel points this out. He has a million questions for Dean, but he tries to keep them to himself for now. The only one he asks is about their destination. He had Castiel pack a few things, but they aren’t headed towards the freeway. They’re headed towards campus. 

“Benny and Raphael.” Dean says as they pull up to an almost empty parking lot. Castiel’s body stiffens. They’re only a short distance from the fraternity. 

“How do you know their names?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean says quietly, giving him a soft smile. “Point is, the bastard who held the camera that night? He’s the fucking President of this hellhole.” They’re   
approaching the house, which is blaring music at the moment. People are all over the place, stumbling and laughing. 

“Yeah, Raphael got promoted to it after Benny graduated.” Castiel whispers. His whole body is shaking. There are so many reasons they shouldn’t be here, number one being Dean. Anyone could recognize him. 

“Yup.” Dean laughs sadistically. “Of course, tonight is the alumni party. Putting both boys exactly where I need them to be.”

“Dean, let’s just go. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Castiel tugs his hand, trying to pull him away from the house. Dean looks back at him, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I have to do this. The idea of this night, the plans I’ve been making. That’s all that kept me moving forward. I didn’t know if the FBI would ever stop watching you. I didn’t know if I would ever get you back. All I had was this.” He sighs, wiping a hand down his face. The action makes Castiel smile. “You can wait in the car though. I never wanted you to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“No, I’m coming.” Castiel says firmly, holding Dean’s hand like his life depends on it. Dean leads him inside, pushing his way through the crowd. He tells Castiel to keep an eye out, but Castiel is already one step ahead of him. Benny is standing by the keg in the corner, his head thrown back mid laugh. Castiel lifts a shaking finger, pointing him out. Dean nods. He makes his way over there quickly, pulling Castiel along. 

“Hey man,” Dean yells over the music, a big smile on his face. It’s so dark in there, Benny would never recognize him. And his body is blocking his line of sight, making it impossible for him to see Castiel either. “Do you know where I could find Raphael?”

“Who’s asking?” Benny yells, eyeing Dean up. Dean gives him his best smile. 

“I found some twink for us to fuck. Last time we partied together, I got the impression he’d like to do it again.” Dean winks at him and Benny smiles. 

“I’ll help you find him.” Benny apologizes to the few people standing around them, making his way towards the kitchen. He asks a few people where he might be, getting one confirmed answer that he was headed upstairs for a phone call. Dean wants to laugh, the scenario is so perfect. When they get upstairs the crowd is a little thinner, and Benny gets the chance to look at Castiel. When he does he panics, but Dean just pushes him forward. Benny goes to shout something but when Dean shoves him into the nearest room he goes flying, too distracted by his head hitting the wall to make noise. 

Raphael comes to investigate the noise, and in a split second decision Castiel grabs him by the shirt and drags him inside. He slams the door behind them, but Raphael is already fighting back. Dean pulls out a pistol, pointing it towards the door where Raphael is about to leave. 

Castiel freezes. “Get on you fucking knees.” Dean yells. “Both of you!” Both boys drop instantly. Dean backs up, so he has a better angle for the both of them. Benny starts apologizing right away, crying hard. Raphael stays silent, staring straight ahead. Dean yells to shut up, and Benny listens. Then Dean looks at Castiel.

“All yours.” He whispers. It’s what they were in the process of training for when Dean got caught. Everything they were doing at the time, led to this. Castiel takes in a long shaky breath. He takes a step towards Benny. 

“Was I the only one?” It was one of his biggest questions. The one he always wondered about. If he would have turned them in, would he have saved others? It ate away at him for years. 

“Yes.” Benny says, at the same time Raphael says, “No.” 

They look at each other, Castiel not sure which one looks more pissed. 

“Don’t lie!” Raphael yells. He looks at Dean, glaring at him. “His psycho boyfriend is going to kill us either way.” Dean laughs a little. He was wondering why the guy had been so calm. It figures that word got around campus about Dean and Castiel. Good. Maybe the idea of Castiel having a guardian devil kept him safe. 

“You are monsters.” Castiel whispers, his voice shaking. Raphael laughs, rolling his eyes.

“And your boyfriend here isn’t?” Castiel lunges, throwing a punch that lands hard on the guy’s jaw. He hears something crack, feeling satisfied.

“He’s my fiancé you son of a bitch.” He can’t see Dean, but he’s sure he’s smiling. “Did you bring it?” Castiel asks. He doesn’t have to be specific. Within seconds Dean is placing the knife in his hand. Castiel shakes his head. “I’m doing you a favor. Honestly, I should have turned you in. Let the same thing happen to you over and over again in prison.” 

Benny goes to say something and Dean hits him across the face with the butt of his gun. “Shut up, my boy’s talking.”

Castiel smiles, tilting his head. The rush from a year ago comes flooding back. He sighs at the comfort of it. “I am going to kill you now.” He says slowly, emphasizing every word. He comes towards Raphael, grabbing him by the hair and pulling. He barely exposes his neck when the guy starts fighting back. Castiel jams the knife into his chest, shocking him enough to get a better grip on his hair. He stares him in the eye and slits his throat, letting the blood paint his face. Then he moves over to Benny. 

“I can smell you.” Castiel whispers, licking the blood off of his lips. “Even when I scrub myself clean. Even when I drown myself in cologne. I still smell your nasty sweat. And that nasty basement.”

“I’m sorry.” Benny sobs, tears streaking his cheeks. Dean is standing behind him now, staring at Castiel. Castiel isn’t paying attention though. This isn’t for Dean. This is for him. 

“I tried killing myself.” Castiel says, his voice even and deep. He’s playing with the knife, loving the way Benny watches it in fear. “How fucked is that, Benny? You tore my life apart.   
YOU raped ME, and I was the one that was going to die.”

“Please.” Castiel wipes a hand down his face, gathering some blood. He presses it against Benny’s mouth, earning a scream from the guy. 

“Oh shut up.” Castiel says as he muffles the screams with his palm. Dean is holding Benny’s head in place, smiling. “It tastes better than vomit. It tastes better than your fucking dick!” He’s pretty sure Benny is still apologizing, but he can’t hear it clearly, and honestly he doesn’t care. 

“I didn’t tell on you. I didn’t have the guts to, and now there are other people out there feeling the way I feel. Their skin crawls when someone they love tries to hold them. Their chest hurts when they try to breathe. Who knows, some of them could be dead. Some of them might never recover. Hell, let’s be honest. None of them ever will.” Castiel kneels down, eye level with Benny. He takes control of his head, letting Dean step back. Castiel looks at him seriously. “That’s on me. All of those lives, are on me. I won’t let you add any more.”

“I won’t!” Benny says quickly, now that his mouth is free. Castiel laughs, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe you.” He says in a sing song kind of voice, smiling. 

“Please. Castiel.” Castiel slaps him across the face. Then grabs him by the throat, cutting off his air supply. 

“Don’t fucking say my name.” Benny coughs and sputters but Castiel just tightens his grip. “It’s scary, isn’t it? Not being able to fucking breathe?”

He lets go, pushing him away. He stands up, shaking his head. He hands Dean the knife, earning a confused look. “He doesn’t deserve it.” Castiel says quietly. Benny nods, hope blooming in his chest.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks incredulously. Castiel shakes his head.

“Not from me. He’s not worth the blood on my hands.” Castiel puts his hands in the air, taking a step back. Dean slips onto his knees instantly, wrapping his hand around so he can pull Benny’s head back by the chin. He smiles. 

“You sure, baby?” Dean asks. Benny is whimpering, begging them to stop. Castiel bends down, grabbing him by the chin where Dean was holding him just moments before. 

“Look at me.” Castiel says, his voice dark. “I want you to look me in the eye when he kills you.” Benny whimpers, but his eyes are glued to Castiel’s. Castiel grins, shaking his head. “They aren’t so pretty now, are they Benny?” He asks, just before Dean slides the knife across his neck. Castiel closes his blue eyes, letting the blood add another layer to his   
face. When he opens them again Dean is there, just inches away from his lips. Their kiss is quick and heated. Then they have to run.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is it.. I have been putting off posting this final chapter but I know that's not fair to all of you. I think I'm honestly a little empty at the moment. My schooling is over for winter break and now my absolute favorite story is over.. I don't know what to do with myself. I just want to thank everyone that supported me and gave me encouragement throughout. This story was long and full of a lot of deep material, some of which was hard for me to write about. I would like to especially thank the people who have been with me since the beginning. You all kept me from giving up so many times, even if you didn't know it. I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with my story, and I hope I touched people the way I have always wanted to with my words. Thank you all, and for one last time... Enjoy (:  
> -with my love, Taylor

Castiel is washing the dishes, enjoying the nice breeze coming in from the window. The heat has been blistering the last few days. Just as he finishes the final plate, setting it in the drying rack, the 6 o’clock news comes on. It’s in Spanish of course, but it’s American news. It took Castiel ages to find a channel on the Mexican network that reported on the United States, but he finally found one. Thankfully, he speaks fluent Spanish, being able to enjoy a little slice of home every night. He wipes his hands on a dish towel, walking over to the television. Dean’s face is plastered across the screen, earning an eye roll from Castiel. This week is the anniversary of Castiel’s disappearance, the news not letting the damn thing go. 

He’s impressed with the tenacity of the FBI though. They even raised the reward money this year. They’ll never find Dean. Neither of them. When the anchor moves on to something else, Castiel walks back into the kitchen. He pours some lemonade into a tall glass, trying not to pay attention to the fact that he misses Dean. He wonders where he is as he wanders the kitchen, tidying up here and there. He checks on the chicken roasting in the oven, but it still has a few minutes to go. 

Castiel shrugs out of his dress shirt, deciding it’s too damn hot to wear anything but a plain white T-shirt. Thankfully, his work has no dress code, allowing him to wear cargo shorts. He checks his planner, reviewing the different events he has throughout the week. He’s working for a school about thirty miles away. It’s just a small building, with just a handful of children, but he feels like he’s making a difference. No one there is rich enough to own a televsion, or cultured enough to know who he is. He’s the only teacher there, focusing on English, Math and Science. The lady who assists him is an old woman, who speaks broken English. She’s lovely. Castiel can’t help but feel inspired every time she tells her stories of growing up. She actually started the school herself, raising the funds for it all on her own. 

The timer goes off for the oven, and he puts his planner away. He pulls the roast out quickly, smiling at the golden brown skin. It turned out just like he expected. He set’s one plate down on the table, sighing. Just as he turns around to reach into the cabinet again, the door creaks open. He turns around quickly, a smile spreading across his face. Dean sniffs the air, giving Castiel one of his best grins. Castiel tries not to pay attention to the two hand prints on his shirt. 

“Smells good.” Dean grabs the dishtowel, wiping his hands on it. Castiel gasps at the streaks, yanking the towel away from him.

“Dean Winchester. How many times do I have to tell you?” Castiel throws the towel in the trash, earning an apologetic frown from Dean. “Your damn engine grease never washes out of those!”

“But, I love you.” Dean whispers, smiling. And even though he’s dirty from head to toe, and smells like motor oil, Castiel smiles. Because it isn’t blood. It hasn’t been in three years. 

“I love you too.”


	24. Chapter 24

Hey guys!!  
So I've gotten a lot of requests to publish this book and, honestly, I could really use the money because of college. (obviously I have to change names for copyright issues).  
I'm not asking anyone to buy it, since it will still be on here for free if anyone is interested, but this book will be published for just a dollar or two on kindle and it will be edited! There will also be a mini book that comes with it that will have little snippits of their lives since we saw them last! This isn't a sales pitch, I'm just asking for help in the editing portion!  
\--- were there any things you wish I had done differently?  
\--- were there any things you would want to see added? Scenes? Conversations? Background? Etc.  
\--- were there any particular kinks or situations that you wanted to seen explore more?  
\--- is there anything else that you have to offer in the form of advice or comments? 

I really appreciated you guys reading and loving this book as much as I did. This will hands down always be my favorite fan-fiction I have written and you guys will always be the best/most encouraging set of fans I have had. Thank you Thank you Thank you!!!! 

Love, Taylor

Just comment below your ideas or feel free to follow me on tumblr and send me a message there! : https://destiel-love-forever.tumblr.com/


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